


Two Hearts A-Beating

by Alternate8reality, Megabucks



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 12 days of SwanQueen, Christmas Fluff, F/F, Mandatory to drink Hot Chocolate while you read, Minimal Angst (depending on your tolerance for angst), Secret Admirer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-18 10:49:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 72,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21559960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alternate8reality/pseuds/Alternate8reality, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megabucks/pseuds/Megabucks
Summary: Emma Swan has worked for top notch architect, Regina Mills for almost five years. She is well aware of the layer of protective ice that frosts Ms. Mills life, but this year she is determined to chip away at it. She's got twelve days to melt her heart before the big Christmas Party and now all she has to figure out is where to find 6 geese a-laying and how to get them past building security into Regina's office without anyone seeing her...
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 57
Kudos: 193
Collections: 5 stars, Finishedstoriesmine, Swan Queen Advent Calendar Collection 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was co-written by the amazing Megabucks and I. (She's amazing, I'm just okay) The point is, if you don't like it, go complain to her. Haha! There is no one in the world I'd rather write a story about finding someone to love you in just the right way with.

“What do I think? Let me show you exactly what I think, Mr. Rogers.” 

Rising slowly from the high backed leather chair, she circled the conference table with a confident stride. Unsure of which display disgusted her more, she decided Rogers’ smarmy grin took the prize as she was forced to step close to him in order to grasp the pathetically predictable model on the table before him. Her expression remained unreadable when he swiveled in his chair as she approached, his legs spread wide, hands leaving the armrests to settle behind his head. What is it about small minded men needing to take up as much space as possible? 

“Desire a closer look at perfection, love?”

His grin reminded her of an oil slick and made her desire nothing but a hot shower to rub the stink of his talentless presence off herself. Ignoring his cocky attitude she reached out with one hand, picked the model up by the base and turned to walk towards the door of the conference room. “I’ll need to show this to David.”

“Well, well, I didn’t think the mighty Regina Mills, required permission to—”

Allowing the model to tip forward in her hand, she released her grip and dropped the entire thing quite unceremoniously into the trash can. The sound of the broken pieces on impact was almost as satisfying as the broken look on Rogers’ face as amusement quickly turned to shock.

“I do not require permission to have the trash taken out, Mr. Rogers. Now then, I believe you’ll find the door in the same place you left it.”

Sputtering and blustering nonsensically he rose from his chair and scurried to the trash trying to salvage as much of the model as possible. “I...this is...you’ll be sorry you did that…”

Turning on her heel already halfway through the large glass door, her expression remained neutral but her tone dipped sternly. “I highly doubt that...love.” Spinning back to exit he could hear her tell the receptionist to inform _David_ that the trash in conference room four was full and required attention.

*****

That sound; unmistakable and cutting like a blade through the dull noise of the office. Plenty of women wore heels at the firm but there was something distinct, something almost biting, about the click of Regina Mills stilettos on the cool marble tile of the floor. Hands got busier, eyes became more focused, and backs straightened when that sound approached. On a good day, the sharp clicks would turn and head straight into the office with R. Mills, Chief Executive Officer, engraved on its door. On a bad day, they would continue past the large mahogany framed entrance and all you could do was pray not to be their intended target.

Regina could ruin the best day of your life or take your worst and bring it to new depths with nothing but a look. When she took the time to seek you out, there was nothing to be done but wait for the acidic words to burn and pray you came out alive.The last victim, Marian Marcus, who still recovered from being left at the altar five weeks prior had burst into tears and became so hysterical had to be escorted by multiple security guards out of the building.

Unfortunately for some poor soul, that frosty December morning was a bad, very bad day. Belle French mentally shouted a curse word the second those heels clicked to a halt right next to her desk. Hand gripping a pencil tighter than necessary she hesitantly peered upward upon the impatient clearing of a throat.The beautiful pair of deep brown eyes that met hers lacked even a hint of warmth. In fact, Belle swore, not for the first time, if she looked deep enough Satan himself might be visible within those pupils. 

“Would you care to explain to me why,” Regina glanced at her diamond encrusted, platinum watch, “it is nearly ten-thirty and I have not received my coffee?” Her tone made it clear that no answer the twenty-something could have offered would have been acceptable. Instead of waiting for the unwelcome excuse, Regina added another layer of ice to her tone. “Rectify this. Now...Brenda.”

Dozens of ears and eyes within range of the exchange pretended they weren’t focused on the pair as the younger of the two further tightened her grip on the innocent writing tool. Somehow Belle’s expression remained pleasant while a storm brewed within. She needed this job. She _loved_ this job. She just despised the woman for whom she had been working the last year and four months. 

Sixteen months of internship under her belt, yet Regina still treated her like a secretary. Not that there was anything wrong with being a secretary, but she had worked her behind off in the hopes of earning a place as an official junior architect at Mills Designs. Regina was aware of that. She was also aware of her name, but insisted on pushing her buttons for kicks. 

Belle pasted on a smile while nodding. “Yes, Ms. Mills. Right away, ma’am. Do you want it in your office?”

“No.” Delicately painted full lips arranged into a smirk. “I’d like you to serve me in the restroom.”

The smile persisted. The pencil was in danger of being snapped in half. “I’ll bring it right over.”

“And don’t even think about going to that cheap dive next door. Americano. Cream, no sugar.”

A crisp twenty dropped on her desk Belle glanced between it and her boss as she was reminded (like always when sent on an errand) to return with her change. At least she could say one positive thing about Regina. She always paid. However, the fact that she wanted the good stuff meant she expected Belle to walk across the street and down one block to the popular and usually crowded coffeehouse Buzz Off in the frigid, snowy weather. Granted she could drive, but that didn’t make any sense. Plus odds were high she wouldn’t be able to find a parking spot. 

“From Buzz Off?”

Irritation suffused Regina’s face. “Do you know of any other place around here that makes a decent Americano?”

Belle shook her head. “Ms. Mills, it’s freezing out there and I’m just getting over the flu…” She detested taking time off but Belle had been forced to use five sick days, having returned only two days prior. 

Chilled brown eyes took a quick scroll over her face. “You look all right to me,” Regina dryly said. Two fingers pushed the twenty dollar bill closer to Belle. “Put on your big girl panties and go already.” Head cocked to the side she studied one of her youngest employees with an exceptionally well plucked eyebrow. “Or is this too difficult a task for you?”

Two desks over Emma Swan ignored the pixie haired brunette to her left quietly encouraging her to stay out of it and leapt to her feet, clearing her throat loudly to get Regina’s attention. The blonde produced a cheery smile, which Regina responded to with a frown. She was on the verge of saying something when Emma beat her to it. “I volunteer as tribute!” Several people laughed, the pixie haired brunette slapped a hand over her face and slowly shook her head, Belle stared with an unreadable expression and Regina glared. 

“What?” 

That one word tossed toward Emma was so sharp it should have split some part of her skin. However, she didn’t seem fazed by her boss’s tone, her smile merely appearing to broaden. Emerald eyes twinkling, Emma linked her fingers behind her back. 

“I’d be delighted to get your espresso.”

An already hard glare further hardened. “Americano, Swan.”

A grin dared to take purchase upon Emma’s lips. Not for the first time she wondered why Regina insisted on referring to her by her surname when she often referenced employees by their first names. It didn’t bother her. She was just curious. “I was just kidding--”

“I don’t pay you to be a comedian. In fact, I don’t pay you to get me coffee either. Do you not have anything more productive you could be focusing on?”

“Of course, Ms. Mills. But right now I’m waiting on Mr. Gold’s office to messenger over the site plan modifications from your last meeting so I have a few minutes and don’t mind running out at all.” 

Regina’s lips pressed into a thin line, her brow knit together as she seemed to study Emma’s face for motive. Taking her momentary silence as consent, Emma snatched her brown leather jacket from the back of her chair, collected her knit cap and gloves from the desk and headed for the elevators, managing to make it just far enough not to be able to decipher the final acid tipped comment thrown in Belle’s direction. There was no missing however, the not so gentle sound of the heavy mahogany door hitting its frame just before the elevator doors slipped closed. 

As she navigated the slush and snow covered sidewalk on the way to the coffee shop, Emma contemplated Regina’s disposition just a few minutes prior. The meeting with Rogers must not have gone well. Why Regina continued entertaining that hack’s design proposals she would never know. It was almost like she just enjoyed telling him no and sending him crawling back to his boss to explain losing another proposal. Emma smirked at the thought of Rogers cursing and stomping out of the office like a petulant child, pieces of his broken model in his hands. Regina _was_ brutal. Dodging a puddle, her smirk quickly turned to a frown. She wasn’t always _this_ brutal. There was a time when Regina was...different. 

Four years ago Emma had literally jumped with excitement when she landed the interview for junior design consultant at Mills Designs, one of the most prestigious architecture firms in the city. Walking into Regina’s office had been like entering the Taj Mahal. The perfect, clean lines of the room’s decor seemed more fitting of a palace than an office and the woman who interviewed her seemed more fitted to be worshiped like royalty than a CEO. 

When Regina had entered the room with Emma’s portfolio in her hands, Emma barely found the air to breathe and to this day could hardly remember anything she said in the interview. What she did remember were the gorgeous brown eyes that never seemed to leave hers and the way the tiny scar on the woman’s upper lip seemed to beg to be kissed every time she smiled.

 _Great. Of course there’s a line._ Emma dutifully stood behind the last person, almost at the entrance to Buzz Off, and busied herself taking stock of the baked goods that lined the counter while she waited.

That smile. Regina could light up a room with the curl of her lip. But it was something Emma hadn’t seen in almost four years. Ever since… A frown having settled on her face, Emma attempted to shove a certain memory away, attempted to stuff it back into one of many mental drawers, yet it clearly replayed as though it had just taken place the day prior. 

_  
It was Monday morning and Regina should have been at work hours ago. Her secretary tried her cell phone at least four times and had even tried her home phone when the hour clicked past nine. People were starting to worry and wonder. Regina was never in later than seven, and the rumblings in the office were beginning to get louder and more speculative._

_“Someone should go over to her apartment and check on her.”_

_“I don’t know. Do you think she’d want someone to do that? She’s probably just sick and forgot to call.”_

_“I’ve been here for five years and she’s never taken a sick day…”_

_Emma listened to the concerned banter around the water cooler but noticed the lack of action. Although she joined the team a little over a year ago she still felt like the new kid on the block so figured it wasn’t really her place to say anything. However, Regina was a great boss and Emma would surely want someone to check on her if the situation was reversed._

_Grabbing her jacket, she avoided the group congregating in the corner and headed for the door. She knew which building Regina lived in and figured the doorman could probably help with the exact apartment number if she asked nice enough._

_Twenty minutes later the flash of a smile had the doorman handing her his number along with the information she needed. Penthouse Four...of course. Paper with the doorman’s number dumped in the trash next to the elevator door as she exited, Emma hesitated for just a second glancing between the only two doors on the floor. Neither door had a number. How was she supposed to know which…_

_The door on the left suddenly swung open but all Emma could see was the back of a large man dressed in blue backing out of the door. This couldn’t be Regina’s-- Emma’s eyes widened as she digested the scene unfolding before her eyes. There were three men in blue. Between two of them was a bed on wheels with a large black bag on top. No. It was a gurney. These were paramedics. Oh God, was Regina...? No. The third man was talking to someone just inside the apartment door and the other voice was soft but unmistakably Regina’s._

_“Yes, ma’am, that’s correct and here is the number for the morgue. There’s no reason for you to come down now as the processing will take some time… Ma’am? Did you hear me?”_

_The voice that answered him back sounded empty, lost, and almost bewildered from where Emma was standing just outside the door now as the other two men had made their way toward the elevator._

_“The police report will show that she passed from illness, but you will still have to go down to the station and sign the papers. They’ll call you when the body is admitted. Do you understand?”_

_Hearing Regina make no reply, Emma didn’t stop to think and stepped into the entrance. “I’ll take the number, sir. Is there anything else she needs to know?_

_Turning to face Emma, the paramedic, John, according to his name tag, looked almost relieved to deal with someone other than Regina who was clearly in shock and seemed to almost be looking straight through the man toward the end of the hallway. “No that’s it. All the information is on this form.” He exited quickly, leaving the door open. Emma shut it behind him, still trying to comprehend what was happening, desperately trying to think of something to say, when Regina broke the silence for her._

_“She was sick for so long, but I didn’t think… I just never thought…” Her voice cracked and Emma thought she was going to cry. Instead she furrowed her brow and turned to look at the kitchen. “I should have washed these last night, but I…” Cutting herself off again, Regina walked towards the sink and began scrubbing a dish with intent._

_“Regina, I--”_

_“I hate when she leaves dishes overnight like this, she knows they’re impossible to clean. I don’t know how many times I’ve told her--” Regina’s voice hitched again and Emma saw her hand shaking. When she moved to continue washing the dish, it slipped from her hand and clattered loudly against the other items in the sink. Regina made no move to pick it up again as she stood with her hands gripping the edge of the sink, knuckles turning white._

_“Regina, I…” Emma started again._

_“I should wash the sheets on the bed. I meant to…” Her voice was softer this time. Like she was running out of words or couldn’t quite take enough air into her lungs. Everyone in the office knew Regina’s wife was ill, but no one knew how serious it was. Regina never let anyone see how difficult the last two years had been for her. Jessica always made her hold onto hope and keep faith that she could beat it and Regina had stayed positive for her._

_Emma took a hesitant step forward to stand next to her, placing her hand over Regina’s. She had never seen Regina look so small. No power suit, no heels, just a pair of gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. Even without makeup she was stunning but right now all Emma could focus on was making sure she wasn’t going to fall. She appeared to be hanging onto the sink for dear life._

_Fixing her eyes on Emma’s hand over hers like she had never seen anything so interesting, Regina continued to speak softer and softer. “I made sure she looked nice for them. I put her favorite outfit on her before I called. She always likes to look her bes— liked. She_ liked _to look her best when we…” And that was it. Regina’s knees buckled as the sobs racked her small frame and Emma closed the final gap between them catching her in her arms and supporting her weight._

_She held her for two hours after carrying her to the couch before Regina passed out from exhaustion, Emma realizing she probably hadn’t slept at all the night before. Emma was glad she was able to answer the phone quickly enough to not wake her when the police called and took the information needed. She had called the office to explain and had also managed to find a phone number for Regina’s sister in New York who had promised to come immediately. When Emma returned to the couch and sat, unsure if she should go or not, but Regina stirred just enough to move up and rest her head on Emma’s lap, clinging to her leg with her arm like she would slip off the edge of a cliff without it. So Emma stayed._

_Emma had transferred Regina to what seemed to be a guest bedroom around three o’clock. She didn’t think putting her in the master would be a good idea since… When she had awoken around five, Emma tried to give her some tea but she had refused and so Emma had just held her, slowly stroking her hair until she quieted again._

_By 7:00P.M. Emma was almost dozing on the couch in the living room when the sound of a door closing down the hall startled her awake. Emma looked up as Regina entered the room, still dressed casually but now with her hair more neatly brushed and light makeup applied._

_“You may go now. I’ll call the office tomorrow.”_

_“Regina--”_

_“Go, Emma.” Although her tone lacked anger she sounded much more forceful._

_Emma couldn’t go. The idea of walking out, leaving Regina there alone caused pain to shoot through her stomach. Perhaps Regina thought she wanted to be alone, thought it best that she was alone, but in Emma’s opinion that was wrong. She needed someone with her while…_

_Regina turned and walked toward the door, holding it open for Emma to go. “My sister will here in the morning. I do not require a babysitter.”_

_Emma stood hesitantly. She didn’t want to upset her further but also really didn’t want to go. The look on Regina’s face however, made it clear that any argument wouldn’t be won so she slowly picked up her coat and moved to the door. When she got there, she stopped and tried to put her hand on Regina’s but the moment her fingers brushed her skin, Regina pulled back like she had been burned._

_“Regina—“_

_“Thank you for coming, Miss Swan.” And that was it. She was on the other side of the door before she could say another word and there was nothing more to be done despite the ache in her chest for the woman inside the cold empty apartment._

  
  


Were those black bean brownies? They never had any of those left this late in the morning. Emma stepped to the counter and ordered the coffee along with the last two brownies, garnering quite the nasty look from the woman just behind her. Although it was the holiday season, Emma risked Santa Claus putting a pound of coal in her stocking when she took the time to make eye contact with the woman, wink at her and produce a toothy smile on her way by with a tall cup and small, pale blue paper bag. 

It taking her the better part of ten minutes to make it back to the other side of the street and through the revolving doors leading into the tall building Mills Designs shared with seven other businesses (yet they had the privilege of being on the top floor) Emma was about to gladly head inside when jingling bells caught her attention. Visible puffs escaping her mouth, she looked toward fake Santa seated on a folding chair while ringing a bell, a suspended bucket in front of him. A nearby sign claimed all donations would be given to a local homeless shelter. Paranoia pushed away that at the end of the day fake Santa would pocket all monies collected, Emma extracted two fives from her wallet, walked over, wished the man who resembled a rotund, red popsicle Merry Christmas and dropped the folded bills into his bucket. 

Once back on the twelfth floor Emma could have moaned when a pleasant heat wrapped around her frigid form. Without glancing in a mirror she just knew her cheeks were a rosy red and her fingers felt a bit stiff despite thick gloves. Instead of heading directly to her boss’s office she went into the women’s restroom, placed the coffee and bag on the counter and checked her reflection. Yep. Rudolph’s nose had nothing on her cheeks. 

Gloves tugged off and shoved into her jacket pocket Emma placed her hands under the motion activated faucet, warm water soon running over them thawing her digits. Hands dried and provided lotion rubbed in she removed the knit cap and began combing warmed fingers through her hair while not allowing herself to entertain the fact she was doing this in preparation of seeing Regina. Nope. Just because she first took the time to bring some order to her hair, touch up her lipstick and carefully moisturize her hands and forearms once she took the time to roll up the sleeves of her dress shirt didn’t mean she primped for her boss. That was just ridiculous. 

Reminding herself that she should go before Regina’s Americano had the chance to cool, Emma grabbed her purchases and left the bathroom. Half a minute later stood in front of her boss’s door she peered through an opening between the blinds noticing Regina sat behind her desk, glasses perched upon her nose as she focused on the computer screen. Two knocks later allowed entrance, she walked into the spacious office and shut the door. 

Americano and small bag placed on the desk Emma patiently waited for the other woman to finish composing an email. Once sent Regina dropped her glasses near a cordless mouse and peered up at Emma with an unreadable expression before wordlessly switching her attention to the cup and bag. A dark brow slowly lifted as curiosity leaked into those brown eyes. 

When she delicately sniffed the air a smile tugged at Emma’s lips while she thought about how cute the woman was. Most...okay, probably no one would describe Regina Mills as cute, but Emma definitely held that opinion. She remembered. She remembered several occasions when her boss had behaved in an adorable manner. Of course those occasions took place long ago. She briefly wondered if the cuteness could ever make a comeback.

A manicured finger tapped the bag. “What is this, Swan...a black bean brownie?”

Although she yearned to perform a little jig, Emma managed to keep herself still. Regina attempted to play it cool yet her employee could tell she was interested in the contents of that bag. Two weeks into working at Mills Designs Emma learned the woman was practically addicted to the black bean brownies she insisted only Buzz Off could bake correctly

Emma shook her head. “No, it isn’t.” Disappointment landed upon Regina’s face until the blonde playfully added, “It’s _two_!” She could have sworn Regina grinned at her, but it vanished with such swiftness she half thought she might have hallucinated. The eye roll was real though. 

“Thank you, Swan. Now I imagine you must be very busy. Don’t let me keep you.” Regina slid her glasses back on her face and suddenly seemed very interested in her email again.

“I...yes, Ms. Mills.” Emma studied her for a moment longer, a slight frown forming on her lips. She really was impossible to read sometimes. However, as Emma reached for the door the unmistakable sound of a paper bag rustling turned that small frown to a grin instantly. Without stopping on her way out , she threw the comment over her shoulder. “Enjoy the brownies...Regina.” She didn’t need to see the look on Regina’s face, she already knew the perfect arch that perfect eyebrow was set in and it broadened her grin even further as she returned to her desk.

 *********  
  
Later that evening, Emma sat in her apartment with a cup of hot chocolate reading the invitation that had come in the mail that day. The beautifully scripted hand-lettering in gold ink was something to behold. Regina hand wrote out each and every invitation herself and always insisted on mailing them to each employee’s home. She thought it more personal than an email invite or simply throwing it in their inbox, and if there was one thing Regina Mills did well, it was throw a party. Every year the entire office looked forward to the office Christmas celebration. Regina spared no expense on the food, the top shelf liquor, decorations and gifts for each employee which in past years had included the likes of a 32” flat screen television. There wasn’t one employee, regardless of whether they celebrated the holiday or not, who missed the party. Well...actually there was _one_.

Regina hadn’t actually attended the annual party since… in about four years. She made sure everything was perfect but then it was almost like she was punishing herself by not allowing herself to enjoy it. There seemed to be a lot of little things Regina did to punish herself and Emma’s heart broke just a little more for her every time she witnessed one. 

Emma finished her hot chocolate with a look of resolve settling on her face. _That’s enough._ It was true she hadn’t really known Jessica very well outside of a few chance meetings when she’d stop by the office to bring Regina lunch or pick her up for a surprise dinner, but there was one thing she did know. Jessica loved Regina more than anything in the world and would hate that she wasn’t allowing herself to enjoy life. She would want Regina to find happiness. Maybe Emma couldn’t do _that_ for her, but she could at least try to get her to enjoy the holidays again.

*****

Sitting at her desk the next morning, Emma sighed heavily. It was no use. She had spent all night trying to think of ways to get Regina to want to come to the party this year, but everything she came up with just seemed dumb. She had to get creative. She would have to catch Regina off guard and pique her interest like yesterday. What she wouldn’t do to see that flash of a grin again…

“Are you trying to figure out the meaning of life?”

“Huh?” Emma looked up startled to see the pixie cut brunette, Mary Margaret, studying her intently from the desk to her left. 

“Either that or you're trying to mentally will your coffee cup to magically refill itself as you’ve been staring at it for literally the last twenty minutes. What’s up, Em? Some special project have you stumped?”

“Um. Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Emma felt her face flush a little and mentally cursed herself. 

Mary Margaret prattled on without noticing the blush on Emma’s cheeks or at least not commenting on it. “Did you get your invitation yesterday? I can’t decide whether or not to bring a date this year or not. I can’t believe Christmas is just two weeks away. I don’t know how I’ll get all my shopping done in time. My sister is impossible to shop for. What do you buy a woman who’s married to a filthy rich stockbroker anyway? Ugh...I’ll think of something.”

Emma’s ears perked at the last part. “What _do_ you buy her usually?”

“Hmm? My sister? Oh I don’t know. Usually wrack my brain for something small but personal. I can’t afford anything big enough to impress so I try to go small and cute. One year I bought her a bunch of little stuff from our childhood, you know, favorite candy and things like that. Wrote her a fun little card with a poem to go with it. Not sure if she really liked it, but..”

Emma’s ears had tuned her out as her brain kicked into high gear somewhere around “small and cute”. That was it. Little stuff, just like the brownies. Emma could do that. She could think of a dozen things right off the top of her head that Regina liked or maybe needed. A dozen? Oh my God...that was perfect. Grabbing her phone, Emma tapped open the calendar app and counted the days she had left. Fourteen. Perfect. That would give her a two day head start to plan.


	2. Chapter 2

December 12th and Operation Grin was underway. Now all Emma had to do was get the small bag tied to the office Christmas tree before anyone else came in that morning and drop the note on Regina’s desk. Groaning as she climbed out of bed in the dark she wished Regina was more of a typical boss who rolled in late instead of at the crack of dawn every day. Forty-five minutes later it was still dark out and she had never seen the subway as empty as this. Maybe early risers did have the right idea. If she was more awake, Emma would have laughed at that crazy notion.

It was six-thirty now and luckily the only soul she had seen on her way into the building was David, the maintenance guy, and he hadn’t offered more than a grunt in acknowledgement of her presence. She grabbed the key Regina’s secretary kept in her desk drawer and headed for Regina’s office. Once inside, she needed to find the perfect place. Nothing too obvious,but as this was the first one, nothing too subtle either. Regina’s desk was predictably immaculate. Emma sighed; she had to do better than just propping the note on her keyboard. 

*****

What on earth was Swan doing in so early? Probably trying to catch up on work since for the last two days she had not only taken a longer lunch than usual but also been out the door before five both days. _Well_ , Regina thought, _good to see she’s not turning into a total slacker._

Regina liked getting to work early. It gave her time to focus on things she couldn’t when the buzz of the day began and the distractions of clients and employee needs constantly pulled her from her projects. She also liked to work late for the same reasons...at least that was what she told herself on those many evenings when she lingered long after others had gone home for the day. What she wouldn’t let herself admit was how much she hated five o’clock. The inevitable internal argument she would have with herself about going home to relax or staying and working herself to the point of mental exhaustion was growing old but she was stuck in the cycle and she wasn’t ready to allow herself to break it. 

As Regina settled at her desk, she toyed with the idea of sending Emma for a cup of coffee as it would still be a couple of hours before Belle came in and she could send her. Deciding against it, she sighed and reached for the pile of mail in her inbox that she hadn’t gotten to the day before. As she sorted through things that required her attention and tossed a few things that didn’t, her fingers stopped on a small, cream colored envelope that looked like anything but a business letter. 

Regina’s eyes narrowed for a second and she would have assumed it was just some clever advertisement or a note from a client if it wasn’t for the fact that it clearly did not come through the mail due to its lack of formal addressing and stamp. Just her name, her _first_ name, scrawled on the front in what looked to be someone’s best attempt at fancy handwriting but fell quite short of impeccable. Running a finger under the flap of the envelope, Regina pulled a single, folded note from within. The crease of her brow deepened with each word her eyes took in.

It’s the first day of Christmas,  
 _In the_ _mood_ to play a game?  
 _On the tree are lights so bright,  
_ This token shines much the same.

Find the bag with your name on the side,  
And gain the prize within.  
 _This one is easy ‘cause it’s the first;  
_ Are you ready to begin?

Studying the note and rereading the contents multiple times, Regina wasn’t sure what to think. Was this a joke? Shaking her head, she decided she had neither the time nor the inclination to bother to care and tossed the note in the trash with the other junk mail. She really did need to speak with Elsa about what she allowed into her inbox. She did not need to waste her time on things that were frivolous and as her secretary, Elsa should be more diligent in her screening of her mail.

*****

The heavy wooden door to Regina’s office had been closed all day. Emma had spent the better part of the morning and straight through the lunch break she didn’t take alternating staring at that door and the office Christmas tree. It was _possible_ Regina hadn’t found the note yet but...Emma sighed. No it wasn’t, she always went through her mail before ten. By three o’clock, Emma was fidgeting so much she had already raised the eyebrow of Mary Margaret at least three times in the last thirty minutes. She had to figure out a way to know for sure if she found the note. Glancing at the tree again, she could still see the small bag tied to one of the branches peeking out from the back of the tree taunting her. Ugh, she was an idiot.

All

right, even if she stayed late, there had to be a way to know for sure. It was almost five and the damned woman still hadn’t been out of her office for more than a couple of minutes at a time all day. Emma was about to give up when suddenly she spotted David coming around grabbing the recycling from the bins. Knowing he’d have to get Regina’s too, Emma glued her eyes to the door again to see...what? She didn’t really know.

Emma got up and headed for the water cooler just as David exited Regina’s office. Inside Emma could see Regina focused on her laptop and hear her speaking to someone on the phone at the same time. She could also see her empty inbox on her desk. A small frown settling on her face, Emma happened to glance into the large bin David had with him as he dumped Regina’s trash into it and a small cream colored envelope caught her attention. 

All hope of Regina having missed the note disappeared as Emma snatched it from the trash and saw it had been opened. Back at her desk a few minutes later, she was glad Mary Margaret had headed for the door early that day because there was no way she would have been able to hide the disappointment on her face. She read it. And then she threw it in the garbage. Emma sighed heavily, dropping the note on her desk. Now what?

*****

Usually following a shitty day an order of buffalo wings drenched in a medium sauce with a nice-sized cup of ranch sauce, fries, and a frosty beer helped her to feel better, but having cleaned all the bones and eaten most of the fries, Emma only felt miserable. Sitting back in the booth, she picked up the second glass of ice water and took a miserable sip while staring toward a miserable crumpled napkin stained with the best buffalo sauce on the miserable planet. 

She threw it away. It took Emma the better part of an hour to create what she deemed an adorable rhyming clue poem and Regina just read it and chucked it. Granted she didn’t know where it came from, but couldn’t she take an interest? Did she have to be such a…

Emma sighed and pulled in another mouthful of water. Most people at Mills Design didn’t care for Regina and even Emma had to admit she could be a pain in the ass, yet she was a pain in the ass the blonde couldn’t help but to like. Deep down, deep deep down there rested a likeable person. Just needed a shovel, some rope and a really powerful flashlight to find her. 

Tomorrow was supposed to be day two of Operation Grin yet Emma hadn’t decided what trinket to give her boss, but should she even bother? Day one’s clue being tossed like garbage wasn’t exactly inspiring. She sighed while reaching for the half full beer bottle next to her water and took a swallow. It was over before it had barely begun so perhaps she should pick up the crumpled, stained, white napkin and wave it about in capitulation. 

Check near the edge of the table, Emma tugged the wallet from her back pocket and dropped enough bills atop the check to cover it and leave a nice tip. Time to go home, take a hot shower and curl up on the couch to watch Netflix. Maybe the gang on Wentworth would take her mind off--

Emma’s phone buzzed in her pocket. Oh shit. Emma groaned. Shit, shit, shit. The night courier reminder alarm she set for herself was going off which would be fine except she forgot to put the site plans in the outer office mail box before she left for the service to pick up. Damn it. She had to go back to the office tonight. Now. If that plan wasn’t dropped off at the job site before nine tomorrow she’d have more to worry about from Regina than a crumpled poem. 

Arriving back at the office fifteen minutes later she practically knocked over the bike messenger from the courier service. Thank God she caught him, though he wasn’t shy in expressing his displeasure about having to wait while she ran upstairs to grab the plans. After handing off the thick tube of rolled blueprints and tipping the scruffy late-teen generously out of her own pocket, Emma sighed and headed for the do--... _oh God dammit._

Emma tapped her front pocket absentmindedly checking for her keys and had a mini panic attack before instantly remembering dropping them on her desk as she grabbed the delivery. Sighing heavily, she headed for the elevator again. As she walked across the quiet office for the second time she noticed something she hadn’t in her rush to get back downstairs before. Regina’s door was cracked and her desk light was still on. Checking her watch, it was a quarter to nine. No way Regina was still there. David probably left the light on accidentally and Regina would have his head for wasting the lifespan of her ridiculously expensive, special vitamin D desk light bulb. Yet another sigh emitted, Emma pushed the heavy door all the way open and stepped into the office.

The office was quiet; Emma headed for Regina’s desk to shut off the light. _Shit! Holy mother of…_ Emma bit down hard on her lip to stop herself from yelping in surprise. Regina _was_ there! As Emma had moved to pull the small chain on the lamp, she noticed a pair of deep red, stiletto heels that she had come inches from accidentally kicking across the room when she rounded the desk. Whirling around, thankful for the thick carpet to deaden the sound of her own boots, her eyes settled on the leather couch across the room where Regina lay on her side facing the room.

Emma begged the gods that Regina’s eyes were closed and she was granted the blessing. Not daring to move an inch, Emma took in the site before her. Regina looked so small curled up on the couch, heels off and blazer draped over her torso like a blanket. Her feet were tucked under a small decorative pillow at the end of the couch for warmth, but the most striking thing was how peaceful she looked. The usual pinch of her brow was completely relaxed, the slight hint of a frown had disappeared and she looked five years younger but just as beautiful as always. Emma wondered how often she slept at the office. She knew why Regina may hate to go home but she didn’t think she actually slept here. Deciding that the change in lighting might stir her, Emma left the light alone and very slowly tiptoed out of the office, pulling the door closed behind her again.

Walking home, the image of Regina napping…(yes, napping; Emma had decided there was no way Regina actually slept at the office since there wasn’t a day Emma could remember that Regina didn’t look amazing), continued to surface in Emma’s mind. It was almost ten o’clock, if she’s napping now, how late does she stay? Emma didn’t want to think of how Regina must feel every night going home to her empty apartment, torturing herself by staying there year after year but avoiding it as much as possible. Damn, no wonder getting a smile out of the woman was near impossible.

So that’s it then. She threw out the first note? Too bad. She was going to get another one. And if she threw that one out, she’d get another. And if she threw _that_ one out, Emma would just grab her and...well, Emma didn’t know what she’d do, but giving up wasn’t an option. If Regina didn’t want to go home, the least she deserved was to be more comfortable at the office. It was late, but one good thing about living in the city was that nothing ever closed. Emma took a hard right at the corner, turning away from the direction of her apartment and found the store she was looking for.


	3. Chapter 3

Like déjà vu. If Regina didn’t know any better, she might have thought she traveled back in time one day. Amongst the letters in her inbox rested another small, cream colored envelope with that same pathetic attempt at elaborate handwriting. First regarding it like she suspected it contained anthrax, befuddled eyes soon lifted to stare toward the closed entrance to her office. Which one of those morons was doing this? _Why_ were they doing this? Perhaps they were bored. Regina smirked. Perhaps she should figure out a way to double everyone’s workload. 

An index finger idly stroked the letters across the envelope that created her name. She thought about throwing this one away without even opening it, yet curiosity grabbed a greater part of her. That same finger loosening the flap, Regina pulled another single sheet of paper and silently read. 

_It’s the second day of Christmas_ _  
__Not all treats are sweet_ _  
__Here’s a little something_ _  
__Extra fuzzy for your feet_  
 _  
Please forgive my handwriting  
_ _Realize it could be better  
_ _Hope you can read my little poem_  
Don’t send it to the shredder 

Rolling her eyes, Regina picked up the sheet, read through the ridiculous poem again then rolled her eyes once more. She wouldn’t send it to the shredder but it was headed elsewhere. Without giving another thought as to where this second poem came from and why, Regina balled it up and tossed it into the wastebasket. Glasses slid on she pressed a button, demanding Elsa bring her a tea with precisely one and half tablespoons of two percent milk then returned her attention to the stack of important mail. 

If this didn’t stop soon she would be forced to call a staff meeting and bring up the subject of anonymous poetry mysteriously appearing in people’s offices and how it was not encouraged. 

*****

Emma absentmindedly chewed on a Red Vine while staring toward Regina’s office, her door shut. Mary Margaret was speaking a million miles per minute, but Emma was much too distracted to pay attention to any of it. She just occasionally nodded and alternated between giving such responses as “uh huh”, “oh yeah?”, and “absolutely”. For all she knew she had agreed to help her friend commit a murder. Her shoulder slapped she swiveled around in her chair to look in Mary Margaret’s direction though her attention remained on that door.

“You want to get sushi for lunch? My treat.” 

Most of the words flying from the other woman’s mouth she didn’t pay any attention, but the final word treat did reach her brain. Emma blinked. Treat. That had to be a positive thing, right? Plus Mary Margaret was smiling at her. That smile returned she nodded for the umpteenth time, teeth clenching on another inch worth of Red Vine.

“Yeah?” Mary Margaret’s smile encompassed the lower half of her face. “That sounds good to you?”

Another nod. “It sounds great.” That hand flew toward her shoulder again except that time it stung. Emma frowned finally focusing all of her attention on her friend. “Hey, what gives?”

“You hate sushi!” 

If it were possible for thoughts to be displayed on one’s forehead in that moment Emma’s would have flashed a bold ‘duh’. “Why are you stating the obvious?” Since Mary Margaret appeared ready to strike her again she pushed a boot covered foot against the floor so her chair would slide half a foot away. 

“Because I just invited you to go have sushi with me and you agreed, which lets me know you weren’t paying attention.” 

“Oh,” Emma softly stated. A sheepish expression emerging she apologized scooting closer after her friend assured her it was all right. Asked what she had been thinking about she shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Mary Margaret appeared unconvinced. “So you weren’t paying attention to me for no particular reason?” Eyes shifting to the right she gazed toward something for a couple seconds before a sigh pushed from her lips. 

Following her gaze Emma had to wipe the knowing smile from her face. This had been going on for months yet both seemed afraid to make the first move. At this pace they wouldn’t get together until well into their golden years. _Well, look who’s talking? Like you’ve been so open with ‘her’ or yourself for that matter with your feelings._ Emma snorted. “I don’t have feelings,” she murmured realizing too late that she had crazily responded to her inner voice outside her head. Mary Margaret stared directly at her, a dark brow lifted. 

“Why did you say that?”

“Say what?” 

“That you don’t have feelings. What feelings?” 

Doing her best to ignore a pounding heart Emma’s head moved from left to right several times. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, M2.”

Mary Margaret continued to stare. “You just said and I quote ‘I don’t have feelings’. What did that mean?”

The look upon her face intentionally blank Emma returned that stare. “What did what mean?” Her foot prepared to aid in pushing her chair backward again because her friend appeared ready to slap her, except this time in an area higher than her shoulder. 

“Your feelings!” So focused on the woman in front of her she was unaware she had drawn the attention of at least half a dozen people. However, she did notice David pausing next to Emma’s desk with his cleaning cart in tow. Mary Margaret audibly gulped, responding to his smile with a shaky one. “Hi, David,” she squeaked. Detecting a low chuckle she surreptitiously kicked the lower portion of Emma’s leg. 

“Hey, Miss Blanchard,” he softly spoke. “Is everything okay?” 

Whether he purposely ignored her or not Emma couldn’t be certain, but she took no offense as she was much too amused by the adoring looks the pair exchanged. Really she would ship them in a heartbeat if only they would allow their relationship to progress. Referring to it as a relationship may have been using too strong of a word as what they had mostly consisted of swapped pleasantries and giving one another small items such as the gourmet wrapped chocolate bar the custodian held. _They’ve gotten farther than_ you _have._ Emma’s expression gave zero indication that she had just inwardly flipped off her inner voice.

Mary Margaret nodded then cleared her throat. “Yes, Emma and I were just...talking.” She smiled upon accepting the candy bar. “Thank you!” Reading the label she practically purred. “Ooh, the good stuff.”

“Yeah, my nephew is selling these for his school. Top seller gets a bike so I bought a dozen of them.” His eyes drifted to a spot over Mary Margaret’s shoulder as he murmured, “You were the first person I thought to give one to.”

David beamed. Mary Margaret beamed. Emma beamed for them while wishing she had someone to send her a special beam. David standing to her left and Mary Margaret seated on her right they conversed as she pretended not to pay attention by picking up a pen and beginning to write a grocery list. 

The conversation came to an abrupt halt when Elsa appeared with a wastebasket in hand. Telling David that Regina would be in a meeting important enough that she didn’t wish to be disturbed she poured the contents of the wastebasket into the thirty-gallon black bag attached to his cart, thanked him and began to walk away when he inquired about the shredder. Emma’s heart immediately started beating faster as she pretended to continue writing. 

“Don’t worry about the shredder.” Elsa sounded amused, a chuckle leaking out. “It’s um...empty.”

The moment she walked away Emma curiously looked after her while David and Mary Margaret brought their conversation to an end, wishing one another a good day. Cart pushed he moved on as Emma looked toward Regina’s closed door. Why had her assistant sounded so tickled? Did Regina find and open her second gift? Hope began to fill her until her gaze drifted toward the floor where she found balled up paper that looked so familiar. Although she heard her name being called she leaned over and grabbed it, opened it, heart beginning to sink. A gentle hand landed on her shoulder. 

“Hey, Em, what’s that?”

The blonde sighed, tightening the paper within her fist. Glancing toward Mary Margaret she shrugged. “Nothing.” 

*****

The box sat on the corner of Regina’s desk where she had shoved it unceremoniously when Elsa had left with the trash, and then again when Elsa had returned with her empty trashcan and had nudged it back toward the center of her work space.

“Yes, of course. What we need to discuss is the schedule after the groundbreaking. What is the inspection schedule going forward?” 

This phone conference was dragging on and on and although the project was a big one, accounting for almost fifteen percent of the annual revenues for the firm that year, Regina was having great difficulty paying attention to the incessant circles of conversation when it felt like all of this could have been sent in an email. She detested phone conferences anyway, and much preferred to command a room in person. So that must have been the reason why.

Regina’s eyes settled on the brightly wrapped box for the tenth time in twenty minutes. Shaking her head at herself, she blamed her distraction on the pointlessness of the phone conference and the annoying way the light caught the glitter on the paper in the corner of her eye repeatedly. 

“Are you still there, Ms. Mills?”

The sound of her name snapped her out of the distraction. “What? Yes, I’m still here. I’m waiting for the three of you to say something worthy of my comment.” Regina covered her inattentiveness smoothly and settled back into ignoring most of the back-and-forth on the line after offering vague input on the topic at hand. The way the blue bow complemented the silver paper and was twisted with such obvious care barely complemented the almost childish handwriting from the note... _this is ridiculous._

Regina stood, grabbed the box, and went to toss it in the trash where it belonged. Halfway there and for reasons she wouldn’t be able to explain if she was asked, she instead tossed it on the low cabinet against the wall. Not allowing herself to wonder why, she sat back down at her desk and turned her back to the package.

*****

 _What happened to your conviction from last night?_ Emma flexed her hand on the crumpled, and now slightly sweaty, since she’d been fisting it for the last forty minutes, poem. She wasn’t giving up but damn it. Why couldn’t Regina just play along? She was obviously reading the notes. They were both open. _And both in the trash._ Her brow creased as she frowned. And the ring is still on the tree and the box is...where? Not in the shredder, according to Elsa anyway. Elsa! Of course! Emma glanced at the clock: four fifty-five. Crap. Ignoring the curious look she got from Mary Margaret for the millionth time that day, she jumped up and made a bee line for Elsa’s desk in the front of the office.

Halfway to her desk, she stopped short. What the hell was she going to say? How could she find out if Regina opened, or for that matter even found the gift without letting Elsa know what was going on? Emma trudged back to her desk, dropping into her chair with a massive sigh.

“Okay, seriously! What the heck is going on with you today, Emma?” Mary Margaret was glaring at her and to be honest, Emma just didn’t care.

“Okay, seriously! Why the heck don’t you mind your own damn business, Mary Margaret?” The second the words were out of her mouth and Mary Margaret’s had flopped open in shock, she regretted snapping at her. Well...almost. The woman really did need to stay out of her business sometimes. As Mary Margaret collected her coat and scarf and headed for the door a few minutes later, Emma almost apologized. Well, she would have if she wasn’t so busy trying to figure out how to get into Regina’s office again to find out if she had opened her second gift. As a result she completely missed Mary Margaret’s mumbled “Good night” and ticked off huff at being ignored. 

*****

Five-thirty came and went and most of the office was empty by now. Of course it was; it was the holiday season and everyone was eager to head home or shop or run errands to prepare for the upcoming festivities. Emma still sat at her desk stewing and thinking and about forty feet and one closed door away, Regina sat at her own desk, working.

Glancing up at the clock on her desk, Regina sighed and closed her laptop. Why had she agreed to a dinner meeting tonight? Because Gold Contracting was a huge client and was moving in on a high rise project that could range in the top one percent of real estate sales in the city and Regina was not about to let any other firm be first on their list of choices for site development and planning. That’s why. Time to put on her game face and charm the bastards. 

Regina bundled her coat and grabbed her briefcase. Who was she kidding? She knew damn well she’d be back here after dinner to review the meeting and hopefully read the contract she was sure to be offered. Of course that could wait until tomorrow but…

As she placed her briefcase on the cabinet by the wall, the dim light in her office caught on something in the corner of her eye. Focusing on the shiny glint of blue ribbon she stared at the package like she had never seen it before. Almost mesmerized by the box she picked it up and weighed it in her hand as well as in her mind. The box felt light in weight and shaking her head she decided it was not worth another thought. She dropped it back on the cabinet. _Ridiculous._ Regina promised herself she’d toss it when she got back to the office, ignoring the small voice telling her the garbage can was literally on her way out the door.

The outer office was deserted when she exited her own and distracted by reviewing her plan of attack for the dinner meeting, she not only left her office door open but also didn’t notice Emma’s jacket still on the back of her chair and the fact that her computer screen was still on.

When Emma returned to the main office after a brief visit to the ladies' room, she managed to get almost four steps past the now open door to Regina’s dark office before stopping dead in her tracks. Regina left? Duh. Regina left her door unlocked? Of course she did; David hadn’t gotten in there earlier to clean and she knew he’d check back before he clocked out for the night and would lock up when he was done.

Emma couldn’t believe her luck. Performing a quick scan of the room, double checking to make sure no one was around, Emma stepped cautiously into the office. The lights were off and it was obvious Regina had left for the night, but when Emma spotted the unmistakable leather attaché on the cabinet by the door her eyes flew to the couch half expecting to see Regina there asleep again. An audible sigh of relief escaped her lips when the dim light for the outer office confirmed the couch was empty and she was alone. Emma knew there was no way Regina had forgotten her briefcase though, so she was definitely planning to come back tonight and that meant Emma had to work fast.

Her eyes landed on the shredder tucked against the wall underneath an expansive window. Despite Elsa’s earlier comment to David that the shredder was empty she still had an urge to check it. Marching up to the shredder while ignoring the sudden pounding of her heart, a hand containing a slight tremble reached for the handle soon tugging the wastebasket outward. Emma peered within indeed finding it empty except for a couple sheets worth of finely shredded paper littering the bottom. Sliding it back into place, her hands landed on her hips while curious eyes scanned the office on a mission to find the gift it took her the better part of half an hour to wrap. 

On high alert for the unmistakable clicking of Regina’s heels, she started walking around the room, less than a minute later sparkly paper drawing her attention back to the cabinet. There it rested, present number two. How had she not seen it next to Regina’s briefcase? Feeling quite foolish for more than one reason, Emma approached the cabinet studying the gift without touching it. 

Now what? The foolishness stepped aside so anger and frustration could be in the emotional spotlight. What was this woman’s deal? Why was she making it so difficult to play what should’ve been a fun, sweet little Christmas game? The ring remained on the tree and now her slippers had been tossed on the cabinet, still wrapped, as though her boss couldn’t have cared less. 

Emma promised herself she wouldn’t give up, but should she? What was the point? This wasn’t fun. It was torture. Regina read the notes yet obviously refused to acknowledge her gifts. A sigh pushed through her lips she glanced between the briefcase and the gift. True Regina had tossed the poems yet she kept this gift and placed it next to her briefcase so maybe, just maybe, she did intend to unwrap it? If she hadn’t been interested wouldn’t she have tossed it in the garbage? Another sigh produced fingers threaded through blond locks. What was she going to do now? What was the next move? Set up day three’s gift or just chuck this whole idea? 

“No,” she murmured followed by a vigorous headshake. “No, no, no.” Was this torture? Yes. Was Regina confusing the hell out of her? Absolutely. Yet Emma Swan wasn’t one to relent easily. Regina wanted to be difficult? Fine. She could give it her best shot but eventually Emma would wear her down. Somehow that damned woman was going to start enjoying this whether she wanted to or not. 

A grin appearing Emma experienced a rush of excitement as she returned to her desk to grab the heavy canvas bag hidden underneath. Inside was day three’s unwrapped gift--a single-cup French press coffee maker along with a mug and of course a poem. Hurrying back to Regina’s office lest she or David arrive soon, she set up the coffee machine deciding to put it in plain view outside its box. A faint grin appearing Emma studied the personalized coffee mug hoping her boss would approve of its brief message instead of being offended as she did sincerely mean it as a compliment. 

*****

She should go home. Exhausted after almost four hours of shop talk and schmoozing all Regina wanted to do was fall into bed. But, contract in hand, she had won the account and wanted to review some of the clauses before the meeting with her team tomorrow morning. The company came first and always had… well, it always would.

By midnight Regina’s eyes were starting to blur and she was rereading the paragraphs of the contract three times to absorb the information. Leaning back in her chair, she rubbed her temples and admitted it was time to call it quits. Grabbing the paperwork she reached for her briefcase and only had a minor moment of panic when it wasn’t under her desk where it always was, before remembering where she had dropped it earlier that evening.

As she moved the brown leather case across the cabinet top to drop the papers inside something slid across the smooth surface and bumped into the wall behind it. What on earth? Oh… Rolling her eyes as they settled on the shiny blue bow and silver paper wrapped box, she decided she had enough of this silliness and it was too late at night to entertain it any further. Picking it up in the opposite hand from her briefcase, she succinctly dropped the box in the trash on her way out the door with a satisfied smile. _There. Taken care of._


	4. Chapter 4

Elsa leafed through the previous night’s deliveries and late mail drop off, weeding out the fluff before bringing it in to Regina. Double checking to make sure only the important things made it to her inbox, Elsa put the stack under one arm and grabbed Regina’s coffee in the other one. Shit. She could already tell the cup had not survived the trip from Buzz Off and was not going to be acceptably hot enough. The thought of the break-room microwave didn’t dare cross her mind as Regina had made it crystal clear that that “blasted machine” completely destroyed the nuance of flavor in the beverage. Dumping the cup in the sink, she surrendered to the idea of the upcoming tongue lashing and resulting second walk in the cold to fetch a fresh brew that was most likely on her immediate agenda.

Regina, of course, had already been in for at least an hour based on the pile of work spread out on her desk and as Elsa gently placed the morning’s items in her inbox and turned to leave, she almost allowed herself to believe she was going to escape without comment.

“Before you go back to get me a _hot_ cup of coffee, Elsa, be a dear and water the plants by the windowsill.” Regina didn’t even bother to look up but her tone spoke volumes and Elsa’s barely squeaked “Yes, ma’am” was enough of an apology for her to not bother with any further comment.

Returning with the small watering can to feed the orchids and three bonsai trees that Regina somehow managed to make thrive on the windowsill without a drop of fresh air Elsa almost knocked over the small machine set up between the plants. “Oh! You got one of these? I saw this on a list of the top gifts for this year and have been dying for one but they were completely sold out when I checked. I’ve heard they make the absolutely the best French drip!”

“What on earth are you prattling on about, Elsa? Do you not have better things to do?” Regina finally looked up from her work with an annoyed crease in her brow but Elsa barely noticed as she was so enamored with the single cup French press coffee maker set up by the window.

“You haven’t even used it yet! This will be so much better than a cup that needs to take a ten minute walk in the snow to get here. Oh, and nice choice of beans too, these are some of the best according to the same list.” 

Regina was staring at her and the coffee press alternately like she and it had three heads. Did Elsa buy her a coffee maker? No. Not based on the words that she was trying to digest as Elsa threw them at her in rapid succession. So where the hell did that come from?

“Oh, the instructions are still inside! I don’t need those, I saw a whole video on how this bad boy works. I’ll have a fresh cup of the most amazing French press on your desk in under five minutes. Let’s see...do you have a mug or should I get one from the break-- ah, you’ve got one. Oh my God, Reg-- Ms. Mills, I _love_ the mug.”

Regina looked at the small folded envelope Elsa dropped on her desk that contained the coffee maker “directions”. There was something familiar about the color of the paper but it wasn’t until she tentatively reached out to flip it over and saw the scrawled calligraphy bearing her name that she could properly place it. 

Exactly three minutes later, Elsa set down a steaming mug of what Regina had to admit was the best smelling coffee ever to cross her desk. What she didn’t appreciate was the way Elsa smirked when she put it down. “ _Love_ the mug, so true.” 

The second Elsa had retreated, rather hastily when Regina’s only response was a withering look of disdain, Regina pulled the mug to her face and inhaled deeply. Okay, maybe she would read the note after all. But only if the coffee tasted as good as it smelled. The hot liquid was within millimeters of her lips when suddenly her phone rang. Rolling her eyes, she placed the mug back on her desk and answered. 

“Regina Mills.” As she spoke, her hand traced the bright silver lettering on the dark purple mug. One had to appreciate the neat flourishing calligraphy especially when compared to the less than stellar but similar attempt on the envel- Baddest Bitch Ever

Regina’s hand tightened on the mug. It wasn’t that she didn’t think the words were fitting or even on some level humorous but more that she was overcome with the desire to know which damn fool in this office had the audacity and the nerve to actually give her this little “gift”. Regina’s hand found the creme colored envelope again and after ending her phone call, roughly ripped it open, tearing the corner off the note inside. 

_It’s the third day of Christmas,  
_ _My B.B.E. deserves something steamy.  
_ _Does she like it black? Strong? Sweet?  
_ Or does that tongue desire something more creamy?

 _I’ve decided not to send you on a treasure hunt,  
_ _No, the next gift is in plain view.  
_ _So sit back, relax and enjoy, my dear,_  
While I get something hot in you.

Her eyebrows and her mouth silently challenged one another to see which could show shock the most. Regina read through the poem several times, upon each reading shaking her head more and more. Was this idiot on the verge of sexually harassing her? She should be angry. She should be livid. So why was the shock dissipating, a small, wondrous smile taking its place? She was amused and oddly...touched. 

Wait. Hold that thought. She should taste the coffee first. In fact...dark eyes narrowed. This had to all be some elaborate prank didn’t it? The moment she took a sip of that freshly brewed and probably horrid coffee she would learn the truth. Already insulting her would be stalker/idiot, Regina delivered the edge of the new mug to her lips and two seconds later allowed the...heavenly liquid to caress her tongue. 

“Oh my God,” she whispered, it taking her a couple moments to realize she had closed her eyes. Upon opening them she immediately took another sip not even caring that she went too fast causing it to burn the tip of her tongue. The flavor, the texture, the richness was all worth the bit of discomfort.

The mug emptied much sooner than it usually took her to finish coffee Regina started to call Elsa back in there then changed her mind. Elsa assumed her boss had purchased the French press coffeemaker on her own and Regina hadn’t any desire to correct her. Therefore, finding the make and model she Googled it for the instructions, eyebrows lifting for the second time that morning. Idiot spent a nice chunk of change on this third and most appreciated gift. 

Third gift. There had been two others. Regina’s eyes darted to the trash can by the door. She was positive David hadn’t been in again that morning but the level of relief she felt upon spotting the blue ribbon peeking over the top of the bin made her frown at herself. 

_Get a grip, you’re acting like a child._ Regina chastised herself mentally the entire way across the room for the little rush of excitement she let herself feel for just a second, and again as she pulled the silver box from its resting place, and then a few more times for good measure as she brewed her second cup of coffee, placed the box on her desk and sat. And sat. And stared at it. 

“ _Open the damn box, Regina.”_ She chuckled lightly to herself. Jessica’s words ringing in her ears from so many Christmases ago. She always hated the way Regina would inspect every box and take her time before opening each one. The small smile on Regina’s face faded slowly. That’s not what this was though. This wasn’t a gift from her wife. There were no more of those. This wasn’t a small token from the only person who ever seemed to truly know her. There never would be another one of those.

But then...the coffee...whoever this idiot was, they did seem to know her a little. Shaking her head, she argued with her own point. It’s coffee. _Everyone likes coffee, and everyone knows you’re particular about the coffee you drink_. It’s not exactly the most personal gift. But the mug… Oh yes, the mug. The idiot also called her a bitch. Clearly whoever this was wasn’t vying for a raise. More likely they were vying for the unemployment line if they thought that was appropriate. Regina ignored the fact that her hands were wrapped around that “inappropriate” mug again as she pulled another swallow of heavenly liquid from it. Continuing to stare at the box without touching it, like it contained some kind of lethal anthrax disease, Regina debated herself back and forth for almost twenty minutes until her intercom chirped, snapping her out of her almost trance.

“Ms. Mills? The staff is waiting for the meeting to begin. I...I wouldn’t rush you but you have a conference call at eleven and I know you don’t want to--”

“Yes.” Regina cut Elsa off mid-sentence. “I’m on my way.” 

Standing abruptly, warm mug still in one hand, her eyes searched for the folder she needed and found it peeking out from beneath the box. _Enough_. Without further internal argument she picked the box up, and dropped it in the trash next to her desk. Nodding curtly to herself, she grabbed the folder and headed for the conference room.

“Shit, Shit, Shit,” Emma whispered out loud to herself as she hurried toward the conference room. Late was not an option. Passing the door to Regina's office on the way, Emma was three steps passed it when she stopped short. The door was open and the room empty. 

Knowing damn well that meant the staff meeting was already in progress and she really was going to be up shit’s creek Emma’s eyes darted around the office. Briefly considering she was already late and, at the far end of the hallway, Elsa’s attention was turned to the phone, Emma darted through the open doorway. 

The first thing she noticed was the coffee pot. It was pulled out from between the plants on the sill and had obviously been used. The beaming smile on Emma’s face doubled in size when she noticed the mug was missing. She used it! Or...tossed it. _Stop it_. She wouldn’t have done that. 

Regina's phone rang on her desk startling Emma out of her thoughts and reminding her that she was already late enough. For reasons she wouldn’t be able to explain if asked, she absentmindedly picked up the small piece of tape that had been holding the machine lid on and was now resting on the sill by the French press. Swinging around the side of Regina's desk to drop it in the trash as she left, her feet stuck to the floor like they had suddenly turned to cement. 

Any remaining scrap of grin from moments ago fell from her face in a flash as she slowly reached down and pulled the silver box from the trash. 

Dodging the looks from a dozen or so pairs of eyes by refusing to make direct contact, Emma slunk into the conference room while, blessedly, Regina's own gaze was turned to the large screen at the front of the room. While Regina reviewed the week’s project focus with the group, Emma’s thoughts wandered repeatedly to the issue at hand.

 _In the garbage?_ She struggled not to let her inner monologue affect her facial expressions. _Why are you surprised? You already knew that’s where the poems wound up. Why would she throw them away and not the gifts too?_ This was complete bullshit. As her brain spit the word out her fist involuntarily hit the conference table with a thud causing those dozen pairs of eyes, this time including Regina’s to glance in her direction.

“Sorry,” Emma muttered, her eyes flicking to Regina and then to Mary Margaret, both of whom had an eyebrow arched in her direction but, for most likely very different reasons. “Just remembered something I have to do.”

“Miss Swan, I recommend a written todo list in the future, rather than abusing the table.” 

Emma cleared her throat, murmured another apology and then somehow managed to disclose a brief smile. She tried to pay attention to the meeting. That little voice within her head instructed her to do so, yet Emma found it impossible to concentrate. Regina could’ve started stripping and she wouldn’t have noticed--okay, no, she definitely would have snapped to attention the moment one of those heels dropped from a delicate foot. The moment that gold zipper that ran the length of Regina’s back fell one--

A foot. Her feet. The fuzzy socks purchased and gift wrapped with so much care for those delicate feet tossed in the trash without being opened. The ring still clung to the Christmas tree yet she opened the French press and had obviously used it. The mug? Emma hadn’t seen it, but let’s face it, that was probably in the trash too. Emma imagined herself standing up, hands on her hips as she leveled a glared and icily asked _what the hell kind of game are you playing, Regina?_ _Open the damned gifts already before you go from the baddest bitch to the biggest!_ She also imagined those dozen pairs of eyes would look on with shock, several mouths dropping open. About ten minutes later she would be cleaning out her desk while Mary Margaret quietly cried and promised to come over after work to help her fill out paperwork to file for unemployment. 

A shiver racing through her, Emma slowly shook her head. 

“Is that a no, Miss Swan?”

She blinked and looked ahead to the woman standing at the end of the table, dark eyes staring at her with such intensity it was a wonder they didn’t burn twin holes right through her face. Oh God, what had she said or requested? Emma glanced toward Mary Margaret attempting to furtively ask for help. However, it didn’t do any good as her friend merely shrugged, her expression showered with sympathy. 

Crap. Now what? Should she implore her boss to repeat herself or just try to bullshit her way through a response? It took Emma two seconds to reach a decision. It was risky, but hadn’t she been taking chances the last few days? 

Mouth set in a straight line she nodded. “Yes, it is, Ms. Mills. A hard no from me.”

“A hard no, Miss Swan?” A perfectly sculpted eyebrow rose.

Emma fought against the urge to squirm. Why did she suddenly feel like she was back in high school and had just been caught doing something wrong by her hot teacher? Teacher. Just teacher. She didn’t think of her like-- _oh, Emma, shut up._ She cleared her throat again, this time with a healthy dose of nervousness and sat up straight in the chair. “Yes,” she replied in a voice softer than usual. She visibly relaxed when Regina graced her with a beautiful smile. No must have been the correct ans--oh wait. The beautiful smile vanished, an index finger pointed toward the double doored entrance and her boss was instructing her with a curt tone to leave. 

_Oh God, do I need a cardboard box after all?_ Was she truly fired with Christmas less than two weeks away? Emma could already feel tears stinging her eyes. “What?” 

“You are dismissed.”

She blinked then stared. “Am I...being let go?”

“Miss Swan, for whatever reason you’re behaving like an idiot right now, you’re still one of my most valued employees. That said, it seems your mind is on much more important things right now, there is no reason for you to waste your valuable time here with us. Therefore,” Regina pointed again, “I would like you to go. Go home, take a nap, do yoga, tend to whatever it is your little brain is preoccupied with...whatever you have to. And when you return tomorrow morning, I’ll expect you to be more focused. Understood?”

Emma could only nod and stammer out another attempted apology. “I’m so sor--”

“Don’t apologize. Improve.”

She nodded again. “I will.” Feeling eyes upon her yet refusing to make eye contact with anyone including Mary Margaret, Emma pushed her chair away from the table, stood up, leaned forward to grab her notepad and promptly slammed her knee into the heavy wood. The force of which, not only sent everyone’s coffee sloshing in their cups but also produced a loud clatter from the far end of the table. 

While the flurry of activity as people quickly grabbed notepads and laptops out of the way of spilled liquids did manage to cover the “fuck” that slipped from Emma’s mouth, there were two things that were noticed in the aftermath. One by most likely only Emma and one by certainly everyone.

The original clatter had drawn Emma’s eyes to the other end of the table where the first thing she saw was Regina snatching her laptop up to keep it dry revealing behind it a deep purple mug with silver calligraphy on the side. Unfortunately for Emma there was no time to digest this discovery as the next thing she witnessed was Regina bending and picking something up off the floor with a sigh and deep frown.

“ _Fuck.”_ This time thankfully internal, Emma realized that it was Regina’s phone. The one with the gorgeous, delicate, cherry wood hand carved case. which now looked to be in at least three pieces in Regina’s hand. There were those dozen pairs of eyes again. This time not knowing where to look as they bounced between Regina’s broken phone case and Emma’s deer in headlights expression.

Regina broke the silence first by pressing the intercom and asking Elsa to send David up with some paper towels. Emma once again felt the words slipping from her lips. “Regina, I’m so--“ this time those dozen pairs of eyes widened in disbelief and fear. Had Emma actually just referred to Regina by her first name in a staff meeting? She didn’t need to hear the “get out” Regina was more than likely thinking; her expression said it all. With nothing left to offer Regina but a weak smile that was not returned, Emma briskly walked out the room. 

*****

Red faced and still internally cursing herself, Emma sat staring out the window of Buzz Off nursing a cup of hot chocolate which was decidedly falling down on its intended job of making her feel better. She had already decided there was no way her morning could have gone any worse. Okay, maybe it could have. She only broke the case, not the phone. She only spilled half of everyone’s coffee not all of it. She only found one of Regina’s gifts in the trash, not all of them. She only pictured her boss stripping for a second, not a full minute. She only said no (she found out minutes ago after checking her email) to a pro-bono design of a homeless shelter not an orphanage. 

Emma rolled her eyes at herself. _Yeah, no big deal, could have been much worse._ How the heck was she going to show her face again tomorrow. That had to be a hundred and fifty dollar phone case. _Well who the hell even buys a hand carved wooden case anyway?_ Sighing at herself, Emma shook her head. Regina does. That’s who. And she’d better find a way to make it up to her if she wanted to stay one of her “most valued employees”.

 _Four calling birds._ _Oh my God!_ Emma almost spit her cocoa out. How was this even possible? The fourth gift! _Calling_ birds. It was too perfect. Well, okay, it wasn’t perfect since the reason for the coincidence was far from great but what were the chances? She could get her a new phone case! However, as quickly as the revelation hit her, she started to doubt herself again. Gift one was ignored, gift two was trashed. What was she even thinking continuing this game?

But the coffee maker...and the mug. She was using those. Emma performed a mental keyboard smash. Why the hell was this blasted woman so complicated? 

*****

Regina dropped her briefcase on the kitchen counter with a thud. It was almost nine and she had had a day from hell. Meeting after meeting interspersed with multiple conference calls and interruptions had her rubbing her temples to ease the growing tension headache that had finally driven her from her office twenty minutes prior. Thank goodness she lived so close to the building. Settling on the couch in the living room with a container of leftover Chinese food, she managed to ignore her phone for a solid ten minutes before checking her email.

With an audible groan she scrolled through the eleven emails that had come through in the last thirty minutes. Dragging herself off the couch, she retrieved her briefcase, brought it back to the living room, and this time dropped it sideways on the coffee table. Shoving the cold Chinese food away from herself, she wished she had grabbed a cup of coffee before leaving the office. She’d do anything for a hot cup of that French press right now and set a quick reminder on her phone to have Elsa order some decaf for just such occasions. 

_“Baddest bitch ever”_ Regina scoffed thinking of the mug again. She didn’t feel all that bad at the moment but she certainly had upped the bitch factor today. This damned headache had been gaining strength since ten o’clock this morning and her patience had worn thinner and thinner which each passing hour. She didn’t get migraines often, but this certainly felt like the start of one.

With an audible sigh, Regina unclasped the supple leather case and grasped the accordion folder within, sliding it out onto the coffee table with resignation. These emails were going to amount to another hour of work at least and… What the hell is--?

Regina blinked rapidly at the silver box with the shiny blue bow in disbelief. While her brain tried to process what her eyes were seeing, her hand seemed to develop a mind of its own in the absence of any guidance. Her fingers ran over the paper gently then suddenly snapped back as if they had been burned. Regina’s brain caught up and began to spin in vicious one-eighties. 

_How the hell did this get in my briefcase? Open it. Who the hell was in my office? Open it. Is this thing somehow following me? Who the hell touched my personal things? Open it. Is this some kind of threat? Open it. “_ Shut Up!”

Startled out of her thoughts by her own voice, Regina stared at the box in her hand. This was ridiculous. A rational person would throw the box away. That’s what she had done earlier and that’s what she would do now. She would stand up and toss it in the garbage in the kitchen and deal with the rest of it tomorrow. Whoever was behind this was going to pay, big time. She would not tolerate trespassing in her own personal property. She would just get up and toss the box and compose a company-wide email demanding the perpetrator step forward. She would just drop the box in the bin and then… what the hell was she doing? 

The bow had somehow become untied in her fingers and the corner of the paper had somehow become torn as well. _Open the box, Regina,_ Jessica whispered in her ear, and her mind finally stilled while her fingers worked. 

Sliding the paper carefully from the box underneath, which was also silver, Regina grasped the lid and lifted it slowly, wincing as if she half expected a jack-in-the-box to spring forward. When no such attack occurred she allowed her eyes to peer inside at the pair of brightly colored, blue and white fuzzy socks. Socks? Regina was startled by the sound of the single sharp laugh that forced its way from her lips. Socks?

She racked her brain trying to remember the note that had accompanied the gift the day before. Damn. Why did she toss it? Something about something fuzzy for her feet...that’s right! Wait...Why would this person get her socks? Regina tried to make sense of the item. Whoever gave her these obviously worked at the office. _What was your first clue, genius?_ Okay, so was she supposed to wear them to work? At work? Regina snapped her fingers. That’s it! At work! When she stayed late and sometimes caught a nap, these would be so much better than trying to keep her feet warm under the pillow at the end of the couch. But how on earth…? Who, in the office, knew that she even did that? Everyone was long gone well before those moments. Elsa? No, it couldn’t be. Could it? David? Oh God, no. Sweet guy, but please no. 

Regina placed the socks that she had been fingering and marveling at the softness of back in her briefcase and leaned back on the couch again. Alright, so that was two extremely thoughtful and kinda perfect gifts from whoever the heck this person was. Two...crap. It was three, wasn't it? The first gift, what the heck had _that_ note said? She couldn’t for the life of her remember now possibly due in part to the aching throb that was still persistently pulsing at the front of her skull. This was going to have to wait until morning as the current evening was going to end with some Advil, some ignored emails and her bed.


	5. Getting In the Mood

The end of Emma’s pen clicked repeatedly over and over as she reread the email for the fifth time that morning. _I expect you in my office at 10am sharp._ Her leg bounced in time with her thumb’s incessant pen clicking. _...be prepared to discuss yesterday’s issue._ That was the one. That was the sentence that had Emma breaking out in a nervous sweat and staring at her watch every three minutes for the last hour that she had been sitting at her desk. 

She was getting fired. Regina must have found the box Emma snuck into her briefcase, figured out it was Emma, maybe even had hidden cameras in her office and actually had proof of her...what would you call it? Reverse thievery?

Emma side-eyed the small red box that sat in her own bag at her feet, just barely visible, the zipper on the bag open only an inch. She let out a small groan and immediately covered it with a yawn when she spied Mary Margaret’s eyebrow arch up slightly in her direction. 

She had already had the “what the hell was that” conversation with Mary Margaret this morning and did not want to invite further inquiry after having successfully(?) convinced her that yesterday’s debacle was just the result of her being tired as she hadn’t been sleeping well lately.

Internally banging her head on her desk, she didn’t know what she was thinking when she stopped by the street vendor stand on the way home yesterday. She had purchased the brand new cell phone case, the nicest one available of course, but still nowhere near as nice as the one she was responsible for breaking, with some small sense of optimism but not even the perfection of the rose gold case with a small black robin in the corner was enough to quell the building nerves as the minutes ticked by relentlessly towards 10am. 

Along with the new box in her bag, Emma had included three envelopes. Knowing full well that Regina had thrown out the first two poems but not the third, Emma had decided to give her one final chance before she would let herself give up. So poems one, two and now four would be left today to give Regina the opportunity to play again. If these wound up in the trash with the cell phone case it would be game over, white flag waved, towel thrown in and fat lady sings on operation get this blasted woman to enjoy the fricken holiday.

Click, click, click. From the corner of her eye she noticed she had gained Mary Margaret’s attention again. Most likely due to her manipulation of the pen, but Emma couldn’t put it down. Whenever her nerves got the better of her, she had to do something and right now that something involved continuously assaulting her writing utensil. Nervous eyes shifted toward the watch, a groan inching up her throat. Six minutes until she had to make an appearance within Regina’s office.

Emma tossed the pen onto her keyboard. It wasn’t working any more. A relieved sigh reaching her ears she stood up, looking toward her co-worker when asked where she was headed. “Regina asked to see me at ten.” 

“ _Regina_ huh?” A smirk took purchase upon her lips and a twinkle lightened her eyes. “The second time you’ve called her that in two days. Quite chummy aren’t we?”

Emma rolled her own eyes. “Quite nosy aren’t we?” While the other woman chuckled Emma stepped away from the desk. However, instead of heading toward Regina’s office she went to the breakroom. Having drank three cups of coffee she already felt jittery enough so instead of a fourth refill she grabbed a bottled water from the refrigerator, polishing off the bulk of it by the time the clock struck 9:59. 

As she neared the office Emma felt like an inmate on death row moments away from being administered the lethal injection. Dramatic? Yes, but she couldn’t help it. She felt sick and suddenly all that liquid caffeine along with the water wanted to make an escape. A few deep breaths taken she managed to keep them down. Following an inward count to ten Emma knocked, heart free falling into her stomach when a clipped voice instructed her to enter.

Sending her trembling hand a scowl, Emma turned the knob and stepped within, quietly shutting the door behind her. Turning around almost in slow motion, nervous eyes met the serious dark pair that already studied her. Since she appeared frozen to the spot following five seconds worth of silence she was instructed to occupy the chair on the other side of a desk covered with loose papers, folders, a computer and the baddest bitch ever mug. The presence of the latter almost causing Emma to grin until she recalled the email summons. 

Once her feet unthawed, Emma slowly walked to the chair and just as slowly lowered into it, hands gripping its arms for a moment then choosing to clasp upon her lap. Back ramrod straight she had a difficult time maintaining eye contact so instead she selected to focus on the mug, mouth shortly opening and words coming forth without her brain having the opportunity to proofread them.

“Cool mug. Where did you get it?” _What the hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to shine a neon arrow at yourself?_

As though she had forgotten the half-filled mug sat there, Regina looked down at it, eyes repeatedly blinking followed by a shake of her head. Throat cleared she returned her attention to her employee. “A gift,” she succinctly responded. “Miss Swan,” the leather chair creaked when Regina sat back, fingers linked upon the desk, “I’d like to discuss the subject of yesterday’s meeting.” Full lips smirked. “The one you gave a hard no to.”

“Listen, about that, I’m so sorry for--”

“Miss Swan,” Regina held her hand up while cutting her off. “I do believe I made it quite clear that whatever it was you were preoccupied with yesterday was your business. Your decision to bring it to my staff meeting was unfortunate, and I don’t think I need to repeat myself to assure you that it is just as unwelcome in my office. Now did you or did you not take the time this morning to look over the proposal I sent you yesterday afternoon?”

Emma’s brain did a quick audit of the emails she read this morning and found the one Regina was referring to. She had barely skimmed the proposal details for the new pro bono women’s shelter but thankfully, enough of the material had imprinted for her to actually speak to it. “Yes, Ms. Mills. I think the proposal looks good, however I think the foundation set backs need to be confirmed before anyone can begin the design. The location of the building will be near the historical district and although I’m almost positive that street falls outside the zoning restriction area, I know the city has recently updated it’s new construction regulations. I wouldn’t want the firm to waste money designing something that won’t pass the council.”

Regina smiled internally and was reminded of why she like Emma so much. She consistently thought laterally when it came to her projects and was able to see challenges before they arose to the level of problems. “Very good, Miss Swan. I agree. Confirm the regulations and I will expect your draft of the design before the thirty-first.”

“I...my draft?” Emma stammered out, quickly doing a rundown in her head of the workload she already had on her desk with Gold’s project and the newest high rise Regina had assigned her just three weeks prior. “Ms. Mills, I’m really very flattered but Gold--”

“This project will be your priority for the next two weeks, however, I can’t have you neglecting our other accounts for this. I know this is a busy time of year but I trust you understand my desire to move swiftly on this project and you won’t mind a few late nights with me.”

“I understand and of course I--” Emma’s brain caught up with her ears. “With you?”

“Yes, of course. I will be working with you on this project to ensure its timeliness and precision. Not to say I don’t trust you with both, but I wouldn’t expect you to take this on alone with your other projects in their current phases.” Regina’s smirk fixed itself to her lips again. “Will working with me directly be a problem for you, Miss Swan?”

“I...yes...I mean no, of course not, Reg...Ms. Mills…” Emma tried to discreetly wipe sweaty palms upon her pants. 

“Good, I’ll expect an answer at five-thirty then. Do let Elsa know what you’d like for dinner.” Regina turned to her laptop and immediately began typing while Emma sat and stared trying to understand her last two sentences. Turning back to her a full awkward minute later Regina arched an eyebrow. “Is there something else, Miss Swan?”

“I...I’m sorry, an answer to what...and tell Elsa what?” Emma stammered the questions out feeling her face redden when Regina’s face reflected disappointment in her lack of understanding. 

“The set-back restrictions, Miss Swan. Call the city and get an answer and we will sit down at five-thirty to look over whatever you come up with between now and then. And tell Elsa what you would like from GianCarlos and she will order us dinner since we are staying late.”

 _Fuck, we’re starting tonight?_ “Oh, yes. I...yes. I’ll do that.” Emma still sat frozen for a moment as Regina turned away again. 

With eyes remaining on her laptop screen Regina shortly added, “Be a dear and shut the door on your way out...Emma.”

  
  


Back at her desk a few moments later Emma poured over the details of the project and groaned out loud. The building _was_ in the historical district and therefore was going to be a giant pain in the ass and she had damn well better triple check every number and inch was correct before this got to the planning board. If it was wrong, they’d kick it back to the bottom of the list and place it on their shit-list of projects. The city planning board was known for beating up contractors and architecture firms that did not do their due diligence in deconstructing the minutia of every restriction and there was no way Emma was going to let Regina down on this one.

Lunch came and went and Emma never looked up from her screen. Mary Margaret was back from lunch and had dropped a sandwich on her desk with a look of pity. She didn’t know what Emma’s meeting had been about but she could only assume she had gotten an earful from Regina about her behavior the day prior by the fact that Emma hadn’t taken a breath since returning to her desk. At around four o’clock the furrow in Emma’s brow seemed in danger of etching itself permanently on her forehead and Mary Margaret decided she needed a distraction. She was practically sitting on her desk by the time Emma took notice of her proximity. 

“You know she’s been acting weird all day.”

Emma tried to catch up quickly. Had Mary Margaret been talking to her this whole time? “Huh? Who?”

“Regina. Haven’t you noticed her? She’s been out of her office walking around, checking out the Christmas tree and decorations like three times today. It’s weird.”

“She has? Yeah...um, that _is_ weird.” 

Mary Margaret continued. “What do you think that’s about? Since when does she care about Christmas trees and stuff? Hey, what was your meeting about, you didn’t get in trouble did you? You never answered my text last night, is everything okay with you?”

“Yeah...what? Yeah. Sorry...I’m just really busy right now, Mar, can we talk later?”

The concerned frown on Mary Margaret’s face deepened but she took the not subtle hint and retreated to her desk after a few more half-hearted comments. An hour later when she bundled up to head out for the night she tossed a quick goodbye at Emma that was met with nothing more than a glance and a quick two finger wave before her nose was back in her screen.

It was five-fifteen. Emma had gotten a great start on the project and was able to get further than she thought she would today by working through lunch. Lunch. Crap. The sandwich Mary Margaret had been so nice to get her without asking was still sitting on the corner of her desk untouched and completely wilted. Tossing it in the trash, her stomach growled and she mentally put sucking up to M2 on her todo list for tomorrow. 

Turning to look at Regina’s door, which was closed, Emma glanced at the clock again. Five-seventeen. The day was over, well...not for her, but the office was nearly empty already and she had not figured out a way to get Regina’s day four gift into her office yet. She had barely thought of it all day with her new project taking up all her time but when she had, she just kept pushing it aside for future Emma to deal with. Well future Emma was going to have to deal with it now. She just didn’t know how yet. She was due in Regina’s office in, checking again, twelve minutes now, and it’s not like she could just drop it on her desk. 

Emma leaned back in her chair and watched as across the large office, Elsa was putting her coat on and stacking the evening mail delivery on her desk. Mail. That’s it! Emma grabbed the small box and the poems out of her bag and shoved them in an envelope, sealed it and scrawled the address of the firm on it as quickly as she could. Making a beeline for Elsa’s desk, she caught her just as she came around the side. 

“Is that pile for Ms. Mills?” Emma tried to appear casual as she slowed her pace just a step from Elsa’s desk.

“Yes. The afternoon mail was late today. I’m just going to bring it in before I go.”

“Oh, why don’t I take it for you? I have a meeting with Reg--Ms. Mills in a few minutes anyway. You probably want to get going. Lots of last minute shopping to get in?”

Eyeing her suspiciously, Elsa handed the stack over after a beat. “Sure, thanks. Does that need to go out? I can drop it in the box on my way down.”

“What?” Emma looked at the envelope in her hand that Elsa was pointing to as if she’d never seen it before. “Oh! No...uh...no it’s fine. I’ll do it myself...later.”

“Okay then.” Elsa didn’t seem to notice or at least didn’t comment on her shiftiness. “Have a good night, Emma. I ordered you both dinner and made sure to tell them extra onion rings for yours. Don’t be surprised if Regina steals some though. Addicted to them almost as much as she’s addicted to depriving herself the things she enjoys most.” Elsa’s cheeks began to redden. “I mean she enjoys life...just...you know,” she shrugged, “she’s a bit of a masochist.”

 _Holy crap!_ Emma barely heard what Elsa said beyond revealing Regina’s addiction to onion rings because she was too busy trying to swallow the grin that threatened to break out across her face. “Oh, okay, good to know! Have a nice night.” She couldn’t believe Elsa had just handed her the perfect gift for day five without even knowing it.

As Elsa exited the office, Emma made sure she still had a couple of minutes left and made a quick call to GianCarlos to cancel her onion rings and substitute a boring side salad instead. Couldn’t let Regina make that connection. The order amended and set to arrive at six-thirty, she placed the padded envelope she carried in amongst Regina’s other mail and headed for her office.

Regina seemed impressed with her work and Emma had never seen her so excited about a project before. Although her attention to detail was always impeccable, this project seemed to really take on a new level of importance for her and Emma couldn’t really understand why. It wasn’t like they hadn’t done pro bono work before. In fact, Regina did more than one project for free a year. Most of the office staff figured it was for the tax write-offs and they were probably right, but this one was different. This one meant something to her. Regina was something to behold when she let herself get passionate about a project. Emma could barely keep up with her as they worked and when dinner was delivered an hour into their work session, they both looked at their watches surprised at how fast the time had gone. 

“Why don’t we eat over on the couch, so we don’t have to move any of this paperwork.” Regina instructed as she jotted down the last few things they had been discussing.

Emma placed the bag on the small table in front of the leather sofa and nervously began removing their respective meals from the bag crossing her fingers that the last minute order change was correct. Thankfully everything seemed to be in order as she slid her burger with her side salad out of the bag and then another small salad with it. Is that really all Regina had ordered? 

Shaking her head and no longer wondering how Regina kept her amazing figure despite her long days, Emma popped open the containers, picked up her burger, took a huge bite and promptly almost choked as her eyes flicked up and settled on the sight before her. 

Regina had slid out of her heels, crossed her legs and was gently massaging the most perfectly shaped calf Emma had ever laid eyes upon. Emma was powerless to stop her eyes from traveling just north of the muscle Regina was working on to her knee, and then beyond where Regina’s skirt had slid up a few inches higher than normal revealing her…

“How’s your burger?” Emma swallowed hard as her trance was broken, realizing Regina was staring back at her.

“Good!” She managed to squeak out before attempting to hide her face behind a bottle of water she had blessedly brought with her. 

Regina smiled and walked over to the couch, taking a seat just a few inches from Emma due to the small table in front of them. She opened her salad container, frowned and seemed to search for something on the table. 

“You need something?” Emma asked from around another bite of burger while trying not respond to the fact that Regina’s knee was now only inches away from hers.

“Where’s the bag this came in?” Regina asked. “Oh.” Spotting the bag next to Emma’s opposite foot, she reached across her, knee solidly braced against Emma’s and practically draped her entire body across her lap as Emma tried to remember how to breathe.

The entire action lasted about one point five seconds but in Emma’s head the world moved in beautiful slow motion allowing her to appreciate the sudden warmth on her lap, the soft brush of Regina’s fingers on her leg as she reached over her, the scent of her perfume that lingered in the air just in front of her. 

“I said, did you see any dressing in the bag.” Emma once again snapped back to real time at the sound of Regina’s voice. 

“I...uh...oh! Yes! Here it is. Sorry, I buried it under my lid.” Handing her the packet, Emma tried to compose herself. She wasn’t exactly surprised at her reaction to Regina sprawled across her lap ( _get a grip, she was hardly sprawled)_ but was still trying to live in some semblance of denial that this whole thing was maybe about more than just getting Regina to enjoy the holidays again.

“Dammit, I asked for low fat dressing.” Regina frowned at the packet in her hand.

“Oh give me a break. It’s not like you can’t afford the caloric intake.” Emma’s mouth slammed shut upon realization that her mouth had just broadcast her thought.

Regina’s arched brow was accompanied with a small puff of air released through her nose but a moment later she was drizzling the dressing on her salad and if she wasn’t careful, Emma thought, almost looked like she enjoyed the first bite she took.

Their dinner break was over and done in less than fifteen minutes. Regina would never admit it to herself but she enjoyed having some company for once and Emma was amusing in the way she spoke of the upcoming holiday activities she would have to endure with her family. 

Due to some other commitments she had, she would be traveling to see them the following weekend and was apparently dreading the event due in part to her step-mother’s penchant for over-decorating. That of which she referred to as “the house that Christmas threw up in”. Regina assured her it couldn’t be as bad as she described and that it actually sounded quite nice. 

“You’ve got to see it to believe it. I’ll take pictures.” Emma couldn’t help but feel a tiny spark of hope when Regina laughed and said she’d be more than happy to critique the design concept for her. “Well it’s nothing compared to the way you decorate.”

“Excuse me?” The smile fell from Regina’s face but Emma was tidying up the small table and didn’t notice.

“The office. You do such a nice job decorating for the holidays.”

“Oh. I...yes. I like it to look nice for the staff. Makes everyone feel like I care.”

“You do care.”

“Hmm?”

“You _do_ care. If you didn’t you wouldn’t do it. Just like this project. You care about this too.”

“I...well, yes of course I care about it. If my name is going to be on a design, pro-bono or not, I demand it be up to my standards.” Clearing her throat, Regina stood and crossed back to the larger table where they had been working before.

Emma watched her escape to the far side of the room and decided not to push the conversation further. There was no reason to ruin the vibe they just had going by overstepping, especially if the next couple of weeks were going to include multiple evenings spent together. _And if you have any hope of getting her in your lap again_. Emma rolled her eyes at herself, threw the empty containers in the trash and set her mind to the task before them again.

As eight o’clock approached, they had hit a small stopping point and Emma suggested they pick up where they left off tomorrow after she looked up some of the zoning codes they needed to proceed. Regina glanced at her watch and realized how late she had kept Emma and started to apologize but Emma cut her off. 

“It’s fine. Working with you beats Netflix any day.” Emma smiled and stood to gather her things. “I’ll walk out with you.”

“Oh no, dear. That’s not necessary. I have some emails I still need to catch up on plus the mail from earlier. Have a good night.” 

_Dear?_ Emma’s smile widened as she headed for the door. She went back to her desk for a moment to get her coat and started to move in the direction of the elevator. But curiosity got the better of her. There was no reason to go back but screw it…

Stopping short in the door to her office Emma watched as Regina’s eyes scanned the poem in her left hand while her right played with the phone case she had found in the envelope. Summoning every ounce of courage on nonchalance she could find she cleared her throat.

“Regina?”

“Hmm?” Her eyes didn’t move to her as they continued to read.

“Don’t stay too late, okay? It gets _cold_ in here at night.”

The resounding and drawn out _FUUUCK!_ In her head did not stop until the elevator doors slid closed in front of her and she had punched the lobby button four times. Emma couldn’t believe what she had just said. Did she just blow her cover? No. She was overreacting. There was no reason for Regina to put that and the socks together. At most she’d think it was a coincidence or more likely wouldn’t think twice about it. But still...why the heck did she have to add that part? _Calm your tits, woman. She didn’t even hear you._ When she got home twenty minutes later, Emma was still shaking her head at herself trying to reconstruct those two seconds of her life in her mind to dissect whether Regina had made any gesture or movement to suggest otherwise.

  
  
Couldn’t believe my eyes  
when I saw what befell your case.  
 _I know this is a poor replacement  
_ but maybe will take its temporary place.

Guess it’s a fine coincidence,  
today is day four of our game.  
 _What with the_ _calling_ _birds and all,  
_ but wish it hadn’t happened just the same.

Now I know it’s not exactly fancy,  
not quite befitting, a queen.  
 _But I’m not so sure that’s really fair,  
_ comparing it to the finest thing I’ve ever seen. ;-) 

_(That’s you, you’re the finest thing I’ve ever seen...in case it wasn’t clear)_

Reading through the poem several times Regina was caught somewhere between annoyance and amusement. This idiot just didn’t intend to capitulate did they? Though she was loathe to officially admit it, deep down she was impressed by their perseverance and creativity. Perhaps she was even slightly amused by the unnecessary added explanation of the final line. Maybe...a little.

The cell case in her hand couldn’t have cost more than twenty dollars and compared to her old one, the idiot was right, it didn’t come close, but...for a cheap case, it was kind of cute and would do the job...until she could order a better one, of course. Emma’s parting words registered in her mind as she slowly placed the poem along with the gift upon the desk. _It gets cold in here at night_. Besides the obvious, what had she meant by that? And why had she put emphasis on the word cold? 

Regina’s thoughts circulated between the gifts (especially the slipper socks tied in with the office being cold) the poems and Emma’s parting sentence. Emma Swan. An index finger tapped against her lips. It couldn’t be her could it? She _had_ delivered the stack of mail Regina found Day Four’s present in, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Although, looking at the envelope again, the lack of postage made it clear the idiot was an internal employee. 

Sitting back in her chair she waved a dismissive hand. She was being ridiculous. The Christmas idiot couldn’t be Emma, although Emma _could_ behave like an idiot at times such as yesterday. So, had she meant to break the phone so she would have a reason to purchase her a new one? Regina shook her head. No, there she went being ridiculous again. That had been a complete accident. It wasn’t Emma. The host of this _game_ was obviously flirting with her and far as Regina was aware Emma wasn’t into women. Then again she couldn’t recall her being involved with a man. Then yet again, Regina wasn’t one to take interest in her employees relationships.

“It’s not Emma,” she murmured while gazing toward her new coffee mug. Slipper socks, a coffee maker, a mug and now a phone case. And the first gift? According to the first clue it should’ve been on that Christmas tree, but she walked by the damn thing half a dozen times today and couldn’t find it. Although with so many people about Regina hadn’t wanted to appear obvious so she hadn’t been thorough. However, now everyone was gone. She could look as thoroughly as her heart desired…

A few minutes later Regina knelt by the grand office Christmas tree with her hand tucked between it and the wall, fingers grazing a soft red velvet pouch that dangled from a branch. Tongue pressed into her cheek with enough pressure to make it bulge she reached a little further successfully able to grab the bag between her fingers. Indeed her name had been stitched into the side with gold lettering. The padding of her index finger carefully traced each letter before she opened the bag peering within.

Sterling silver catching her eye Regina plucked a ring from the pouch, eyebrows raising upon observing the oval black gemstone that looked suspiciously like plastic, nestled atop the band. What on earth? Was this Mills Designs or middle school? The ring looked like it had been purchased at a dollar store at best. Despite such thoughts Regina found herself sliding the ring onto her left ring finger. Holding her hand up to admire it, the lights of the Christmas tree caught the cheap silver and almost seemed to turn the stone...no. The stone _was_ changing. Regina watched as the band adjusted to her body temperature soon turning a deep shade of purple. “In the _mood_ to play a game” A mood ring! Regina surprised herself with an audible laugh. She hadn’t seen one of these since...well in a long time. Watching the lights play with the swirling color it was suddenly too many years ago and she could see her sitting there under the tree with tears streaming down her face... 

  
  


_Suffering from the post winter break blues Regina thought a chocolate pudding cup might help her feel better, so during lunch she peeled its lid off and reached for the plastic spoon within her lunchbox. Just as she was about to shovel a bit of the treat onto the spoon a sniffing sound drew her attention to the tree about twenty feet away._

_Naomi Fuentes, captain of the cheerleading squad. Usually she was as cheery as her position, but today she was alone under that tree with her arms wrapped around bent legs and face tucked to her knees._

_The little voice inside her head told Regina to leave her alone. Although she admired the beautiful cheerleader they weren’t even close to being friends and it didn’t help matters that Naomi was two grades ahead of her. Why would she want some freshman coming up to her?_

_Still...she seemed so sad and with every additional falling tear Regina could feel another crack forming in her heart for the girl. Her mind made up she left her lunch on the table and stood up, heading toward Lola. Upon arrival she softly inquired if she was okay. When those watery brown eyes peered up into her face Regina was shocked she didn’t melt into the grass. Naomi said she was fine yet her expression and tears belied the hoarse response._

_Occupying the space in front of her Regina first asked her to open up, then begged and finally demanded, shocked that worked. Apparently, she was supposed to write a 500 word essay for English class on the best Christmas gift they had been given this year and to bring their gift to class. Unfortunately, the Fuentes family had recently fallen on hard times financial wise with her father being laid off, so gifts had skipped their household this year._

_Naomi sniffed wiping her nose with an offered tissue. “Like it’s the first time I’ve never gotten anything for Christmas. Last year I got a computer.” She shrugged. “I know I sound stuck up, but it’s embarrassing not having anything to show. And I would bring something I already have but my friends have been in my room so many times I’m afraid they’d realize I was bringing in something they’d seen before.”_

_Regina could definitely relate. Well...to the not getting gifts for Christmas part. Cora was the type of mother to whom appearances meant everything. If you walked into the house in December and looked at the tree in the foyer you’d have sworn Regina was spoiled rotten by the shear number of boxes tied with beautiful bows and ribbons that filled the space under the tree. Of course if you actually took the time to inspect those boxes, which no one ever did, you’d have seen that none of them actually bore Regina’s name._

_Not to say that Cora didn’t give her anything at Christmas but what she did get was minimal and always felt more like a gift that leaned more towards Cora’s taste than her own. The Lenox teapot that Cora said she could display with the fine crystal in the dining room, the gorgeous ruby earrings Cora had delighted over the idea of sharing with her that Regina hadn’t seen again after that morning. There wasn’t much in the way of belongings that Regina could have personally claimed as truly feeling like hers. Except...her attention was drawn to the small silver ring she was absentmindedly fiddling with._

_Regina had purchased the ring for just a few dollars the summer before on a rare day at the boardwalk. Cora and she had been taken to the beach for the day by one of Cora’s many rotating boyfriends and looking to occupy her for a few hours so they could spend time alone, he had given her a few dollars for some arcade games. Wandering through the blinking lights and noisy beach shops she had spotted the ring and had to have it. Her pride over having haggled the vendor down to three dollars for the ring was short lived of course for once Cora noticed the cheap trinket she did nothing but berate Regina for wasting Carl or Branson or Joe or whatever his name was's money._

_But she didn’t care. She loved the way the colors would change as her hand warmed and cooled and had not taken it off since despite Cora’s continued snide remarks about what people would think with her parading around with “cheap plastic on her finger like a homeless person”._

_“Hey, Naomi,” Regina began while sliding the ring off her finger watching as it began to darken with lost of contact, “Merry Christmas.” The ring placed in the palm of her hand she held it out for the cheerleader to take. “It’s yours. Write about it.”_

_“No, I can’t take that.” Despite her refusal she thoughtfully eyed the inexpensive piece of jewelry._

_“Yes, you can. I know what you’re going through.” Those eyes met hers as fresh tears filled them. “It’s hard now. I get it, but trust me, it’ll get better. And this,” Regina held up her palm higher, “is my gift to you. I want you to have it. It’s made me happy so maybe it will work for you too.”_

_Naomi emitted a shuddering breath. “Thank you, Regina. You’re so sweet.”_

_Instead of plucking the ring from the younger girl’s hand she held out her own, palm down, as though expecting Regina to slide it on. With a small shrug she relented, eyes widening when Naomi leaned forward pressing full lips to hers, which tasted a combination of salt and the cherry flavor of her lip gloss._

Regina chuckled while continuing to admire her second mood ring. The first she had slid onto Naomi’s finger followed by a kiss and for the remainder of the day she thought that meant they were high school married, but by the following day they were back to being acquaintances so apparently the small kiss had simply been gratitude. She had worn that ring the rest of the school year though which did privately fill Regina with some happiness. 

Standing up she tucked the empty pouch into the pocket of her slacks and turned to head toward her office in order to collect her belongings. She wouldn’t dare admit it aloud, but deep down, deep _deep_ down Regina looked forward to what the anonymous idiot would do for Day Five. 


	6. Chapter 6

The woman was infuriating! Emma glanced at the closed door for the fiftieth time that morning. If anyone had asked her why she was so annoyed, and thank God they didn’t, she wouldn’t have been able to put it into words, however if she was able to, it definitely would have included something about Regina being so busy this morning that she never once came out of the office to allow Emma to see if she was using her new cell phone case and/or wearing the ring she knew she had finally found due to a _very_ smooth move of dropping some paper right in front of the tree this morning and spotting the bag missing.

Emma’s heart had skipped a beat when she discovered the small velvet bag finally taken from the tree. The thought of Regina on her hands and knees searching for it had nothing to do with the skip though. At least that’s what she insisted to herself. _She’s not going to wear it._ Emma told herself to shut up and stop making assumptions. There was more to Regina than met the eye and what did meet the eye was amazing enough. She was using the mug, so maybe she’ll wearing the ring. _Yeah, it will fit right in next to the emerald and platinum band she wore on her right hand most days._ Rolling her eyes at herself, Emma tried for the third time in the last twenty minutes to focus on the project in front of her.

Emma’s stomach growled at her when she glanced at the clock an hour later and noticed the little hand close to the two. The muffin she had picked up for herself when she had stopped to grab an apology breakfast and coffee for Mary Margaret just wasn’t doing it for her anymore. _Golden rings!_ Emma’s head whipped around to the direction of Elsa’s desk where thankfully a young well dressed temp sat looking lost with a phone and a legal pad in his hand. That’s right. Elsa was out today, a bad head cold or something she had heard. Emma felt a twinge of guilt at being happy for Elsa’s misfortune but the chances were this meant Regina hadn’t had lunch yet either. She would never have thought to ask for it and with Elsa out, no one would have ordered it for her either .

Emma grabbed the phone and placed a quick order to GianCarlos again. “That’s right, extra onion rings, and make them well done.” Emma didn’t know if that’s how Regina liked them, but all decent people should so that’s how she ordered them. She almost got her a burger too but knowing Regina that would have been too much and then she wouldn’t have allowed herself any of it so she stuck to a small salad and added some grilled chicken instead specifying with a smirk, that full fat Italian dressing be included on the side. “And listen, could you do me a favor?”

The order should be here in thirty minutes or less the young girl on the phone who took her order assured her and as much as she wanted to witness Regina’s face when she received it she had already danced too close to the line with her “cold” comment the night before and knew it would be wiser to be gone entirely to assuage any suspicion Regina may have.

“You wanna go grab some lunch together?” 

Mary Margaret almost did a double take. “What? Yes! That would be lovely, I’m starved. But listen you don’t have to buy me lunch, you already got me breakfast and that was so nice of you-”

“I’m not buying. You are.” Emma shot a grin at Mary Margaret’s slightly shocked and amused look. “Come on, we’re going dutch. I just need to get out of here for an hour or so. I’m tired of staring at this screen.”

  
  


The light knock went ignored three times before it finally became so insistent that it had to be addressed. “Not now, Elsa.” Regina snapped at her closed office door.

The door sliding open a few inches, revealed a confused looking young man in a tie that clashed hideously with the shade of pants he was wearing, holding a bag and a stack of what looked like this mornings mail now at least three hours past when she should have received it.

“Excuse me, Ms. Mills. I’m so sorry to bother you but I have your mail and the lunch you ordered was just delivered. I figured you didn’t want it to get cold…”

“I didn’t order any lunch.” Regina’s eyes bore a hole through the chest of the timid figure still standing half in and half out of her office.

“I...I’m sorry. There must have been a mistake, the delivery boy was very specific that you had ordered it and it was to be delivered to your office immediately.”

A crease forming in Regina’s forehead, she studied the bag in his hand and finally waved him in. Elsa had probably placed the order the day before since she wasn’t feeling well already and feared being out today. Hideous tie scurried to her desk, placed the mail down and set the bag on top of it. Regina picked the bag up with two fingers and placed it next to the mail while regarding him with a similar stare one might lend a cockroach. 

When he was gone, she sighed and settled back into her chair. She had been so busy all morning she hadn’t even noticed the time but the delightful smell coming from the bag made her stomach growl loudly. Ignoring it for a moment, she sifted through the mail not at all looking for another unstamped envelope that may have rested within. _What on earth smells so good?_

Grabbing the bag and uncurling the top, she reached inside and pulled out a small salad with grilled chicken on top. Okay. But why was the bottom of the tin warm? Peering further into the brown paper sack she noticed what looked like a note attached to a clear topped tin and pulled out a warm and what looked to be perfectly well done tin of onion rings. _Is this Elsa’s idea of a joke? She knows damn well I don’t like ordering these._

Regina pulled the small note taped to the tin off and looking toward the door like she half expected someone was watching her, she took the lid off the container and popped a deliciously golden fried ring into her mouth, almost moaning in bliss at the slightly salty/sweet beer battered crunch.

 _  
It’s the fifth day of Christmas,  
_ _and we both know what that means.  
_ _Golden rings are are up for grabs,  
_ though there’s more than five it seems 

_Sometimes it’s ok to indulge,  
_ _to let yourself be free.  
_ _You deserve to just let go  
_ to enjoy your fav...on me!

 _(although if you’re into that kind of thing,_ _I much prefer we use whipped cream.)_

Regina read the note no less than six times. Having gone from a few flirty remarks to suggesting that Regina eat whipped cream off their body, the idiot was getting bold fast. Regina studied the note on the seventh reading. This one was not written in the “fancy” script she had become used to. This one was scrawled on the back of a check receipt from GianCarlos. Oh idiot. You messed up good on this one.

Regina grabbed the phone and a third onion ring and punched in GianCarlos number. “I’d like to speak to the manager please.” 

“No ma’am. I’m sorry, we cannot tell you the credit card information of the person who paid for the order. All we have here is a name and that is Regina Mills.”

“ _I’m_ Regina Mills you moron, and I did _not_ place this order.” 

**“** Ma’am is there a problem with the order? We really are very busy here and--”

Regina slammed the phone down in his ear with a frustrated huff. _Dammit_. _Okay, think._ _Who knows that GianCarlos onion rings are my favorite? Elsa. Who else? David._ Regina snorted at the thought of David setting all this up...well, it wasn’t impossible. He did have access to the room and the entire office. She groaned. Oh my god, it _is_ him. The lousy calligraphy, the monetary quality of the gifts (except the coffee maker). Regina’s face screwed into deep thought. No. It didn’t make sense for it to be David. He was always making eyes at Mary Margaret anyway and there’s no way he could have set this up as he was out on vacation this week already. _Then who, dammit?_

*****

Emma and Mary Margaret had returned from lunch about thirty minutes ago and the distraction hadn’t lasted. Even in the midst of a conversation with Gold’s head contractor and while simultaneously looking up downtown zoning restrictions she still managed to find time to stare at Regina’s closed door. The food had been delivered, but had she eaten it? How the heck was she going to explain garbage picking in Regina’s office away? 

As she pulled her eyes from her door for the hundredth time they stopped on the temp at the end of the office. _That’s it!_ Emma practically leapt from her chair slamming her knee into her desk with a loud bang. Mary Margaret looked up in surprise with a mix of pity and amusement.

“You’re really into abusing the furniture around here lately, huh?”

“Haha.” Emma threw back flatly. “That hurt by the way. Thank you for your concern.”

Mary Margaret smirked. “Well at least you didn’t break your cell phone.” 

Emma tossed a withering glare with just a touch of humor. “Too soon, M2. Too soon.”

Emma headed over to the temp’s desk with the sound of Mary Margaret’s fading chuckle in her ear. _Next time she_ is _paying for lunch._

“Hey, so uh...how’s it going?” Emma casually leaned on the reception desk and tried to seem interested in the temp’s response. “I’m Emma, by the way.”

“Oh my God, how do you work here?” Taylor, as Emma soon found out, was a bit overwhelmed subbing in for Elsa today. “I mean, it’s just so busy. I haven’t stopped screening calls and dealing with people all day. I didn’t even eat lunch! You’d think when she ordered something for herself, she could have told me so I could have gotten something too. Oh my God, should I have ordered _her_ lunch? Why did I even say yes to this job? The money is great though. I need more caffeine.” Taylor spewed his vent session at Emma so fast she could barely keep up with his changing thought trains.

“Taylor, Taylor...relax. You’re only here for a day or two until Elsa comes back. Listen, if you do come back tomorrow, and you want to get in good with Ms. Mills, I can totally give you a couple of pointers.”

“Really? Oh my gosh, thank you so much.”

“Of course! Now listen, if there’s one thing Ms. Mills respects it’s people who take initiative to go above and beyond their jobs. For instance, the maintenance guy, David, is out this week and you just know the replacement the company sent is not going to be up to par for this place. Hey, she’s got a conference room meeting in about five minutes, her usual for Thursdays. You should go take her trash out for her.”

“Her trash?” Taylor looked a little like he didn’t believe that was a great tip.

“Oh yeah, definitely. She totally hates when her garbage can is full especially if it’s got food containers in it. Did she eat lunch today?”

“Uh...yeah. I mean, she ordered something but didn’t look too thrilled about it when it showed up. Thought she was gonna bite my head off for bringing it to her.”

“Oh. Hm.” The sound of Regina’s door opening drew both their attention. She didn’t seem to take notice of them as she headed for the conference room, BBE mug in hand. “Perfect. There she goes. Just go grab it and I’ll take it down to the dumpster for you.” Noticing Taylor’s still odd expression she added, “I uh...need the walk anyway. Trying to get my daily steps in.”

Taylor was back in less than three minutes after hesitating at the door to Regina’s office like a booby trap was going to ensnare him at any moment. “Here ya go. But hey, how’s she gonna know it was me that took…”

Taylor’s question trailed off as the back of Emma’s head disappeared out the stairwell entrance. Taking the steps two at a time, she reached the dumpster and tore the bag open. Jackpot! One half eaten salad and one very empty container with some greasy crumbs lay inside amongst the various papers and envelopes. Operation golden rings was a success and she didn’t even have to visit a jewelry store. 

Of course there was one problem. Day six was looming and she didn’t have any great ideas yet. She thought about the night they had spent together working and tried to figure out something else Regina could need or want for her office. She climbed the six flights back to her desk and flopped into her chair at a loss. She had done well so far, maybe, but she had to keep it up. Regina was just starting to come around. _You still don’t know if she’s using the case or even kept the ring_. But Emma did know she had looked for the ring and that was enough to keep her going for now.

“You look exhausted. How long did she make you stay last night?” Mary Margaret looked over at her with pity. 

Emma’s head was resting back against her chair while she stared straight up at the ceiling. MM was mistaking her frustration for exhaustion and that was fine with her. Without moving her head to look at her, Emma spoke to the ceiling tiles. “Oh, not that late. Maybe like eight o’clock or so.”

“Eight o’clock! That’s late, Em. Especially so close to Christmas. I swear that woman does nothing but eat, sleep and work.” Mary Margaret began to gather her things for the end of the day. “You shouldn’t let her treat you like you don’t have a life either. That desk chair isn’t as comfortable as the couch she’s got in her office if she winds up making you sleep here.” With that, she stood and headed for the door.

“Yeah, Yeah. I know. But honestly I really like working with her. She’s super passionate about this project she gave me and she really knows her stuff. I mean yeah, she’s a bit of a slave driver, we barely stopped to eat last night, but I don’t mind when she cracks the whip on me you know, cause she just has really high standards.”

“Good to know you can take a beating, Miss Swan.”

Emma’s head snapped up from the back of her chair with a jolt that almost brought her to her feet. “Regina!” 

Regina leaned smugly on the edge of Emma’s desk regarding her with a bemused look. Emma’s eyebrows hit her hairline as she attempted to sort out the fact that Mary Margaret had been replaced without her noticing. When the hell did she leave? Why the hell didn’t she say goodnight? 

Regina held out a stack of paperwork and Emma stared at it like she had never seen papyrus before. “The project list and foundation study.” 

“Huh?” It turned out it wasn’t the paper that had Emma transfixed but the hand that held the paper instead. To be even more precise, it was the deep purple stone set in cheap silver plastic that graced the delicate fourth finger of that hand that held her interest so raptly. 

“I trust you talked to the planning board today and got the approvals we needed to go ahead with phase one of the plans.” Regina’s hand moved slightly, obscuring Emma’s view of the ring and breaking her gaze.

“What? Oh, yes! I spoke with the zoning chair and he said we would have to submit the proposal by Thursday morning the latest, if we hope to get it approved for design before the thirty-first. I think they’ll be closed starting Friday.”

“Why would they be closed on Friday?” The annoyance in Regina’s voice was obvious.

“Um...I think they close a day early for the Holiday. You know, we have the big party that Friday night. We’ll have something extra to celebrate if we get this in on time. When. When we get this in on time...”

“Oh. Right. Yes, of course.” Regina waved her hand dismissively. 

“You’re coming to the party right?”

“Hm? Oh, I’ll probably stop by, I don’t know. No one wants the boss there anyway. Regardless, here is the paperwork we’ll need to start the next phase. I don’t suppose you’d be available to stay late again tomorrow. I know it’s Friday but time is of the essence. I understand if you have plans though, but we can order in again and...” 

Was Regina rambling? Emma couldn’t ever remember hearing Regina speak so quickly. Did her question about the party throw her or did it annoy her? 

“Hey.” Emma watched as her hand reached out without her permission and rested on Regina’s. “Tomorrow is fine. And don’t worry about dinner, it’s on me.” _Shit._ Did she really just drop a line from today’s poem?

But Regina didn’t seem to notice as it was her turn to stare at her hand where Emma’s fingers lightly warmed her skin. She didn’t mean to flinch but she had, and just as quickly as Emma had reached out, she withdrew and added, “I mean, if Elsa isn’t back. I’ll order for us.” 

An awkward silence threatened to settle between the two women when thankfully, Regina’s phone rang in her pocket. Reaching into the pinstriped suit jacket that was clearly custom tailored to fit her perfectly, she answered with a curt greeting as Emma fought every muscle in her face to stifle the humongous grin that was attempting to stage a jailbreak on her face. _Thank you, mystery caller._ Gift four was in use and Emma quickly busied herself sorting through the papers in her hand so as not to stare.

Regina sighed as she listened to the mystery caller and without another glance at Emma pushed off the edge of her desk and strode away toward her office again. Emma could overhear her saying something about “it will take me a couple of hours but I’ll get it to you tonight”. Emma’s sigh echoed after Regina’s. That woman really did only eat, sleep and work. She needed a big comfy feather bed in that office not just a couch. 

_Ha. That’s what I should get her..._ Wait. That _was_ what she should get her! Well, not a feather bed as those cost a bit much, but a feather pillow for her to use when she did sleep here would be perfect! That night she had seen her in her office she wasn’t even using a pillow, just her arm. Emma quickly ran a Google search on the closest store that sold feather pillows and laughed out loud. Unbeknownst to her peasant brain, goose feathers could be used in pillows. The universe was really making this work for her. She didn’t know how many geese were needed to stuff a pillow but she wouldn’t have been surprised if it were six.

*********

_I hate the thought of you sleeping,  
_ _in this cold and drafty space.  
_ _Perhaps one day though, not far off,  
_ _you’ll_ _come_ _...ahem,_ _crash_ at my place

 _But since for now you seem to insist  
_ _on sometimes snoozing here,  
_ _hope this gift makes you slightly more comfy;  
_ you deserve only the best, my dear.

Emma crumpled the poem in her hand and tossed it on the pile with the dozen and a half or so other ones already littering her coffee table. _You are not going to reference Regina orgasming at your apartment in a poem!_ Emma tossed the pen and legal pad on the table with a frustrated grunt. Why was this one so hard? The pillow was a great idea but the poem was proving to be a real bitch and she didn’t know why.

That was a lie. She did know why. She was trying too hard to be flirty. Having fully admitted to herself finally that this was about more than just making Regina enjoy the holidays, Emma’s self doubt was raging. There was zero indication that Regina liked her. In fact, quite to the contrary, despite her seeming to like the gifts she received, there was plenty of evidence that she was not interested at all. 

_She flinched._ Such an innocent little touch had caused the woman to practically recoil from her in horror. _Okay, that’s an exaggeration._ It was possible it had been an involuntary reaction, that she just wasn’t expecting it. Or maybe Regina was just the type of person who didn’t get touched very often and so it surprised her. Growing up in foster homes until she was adopted at the age of eleven, Emma knew what that feeling was like. When you went a really long time without being touched by anyone the feeling seemed foreign and was hard to digest when it did happen. The first time she had been hugged by her adoptive parents she had pulled away violently despite wanting nothing more than to be held in someone’s arms. 

Uncrumpling the poems around her, Emma read through each one again. There had to be one in here that was good. Something that made it obvious that she was interested in Regina. Something mature though and not sappy. _Stop pretending you don’t love this one. Yesterday you suggested she eat whipped cream off your naked body...I never said naked!_ Rolling her eyes at herself she read over the poem a few more times. It really did have a nice flow and _technically_ it didn’t say anything too over the top; it just inferred it. 

Taking a deep breath and grabbing the nice cardstock stationery next to her, Emma began to transcribe the poem into her shaky but admittedly improving calligraphy. This was going to be a tough one to deliver but if Regina didn’t burn the office down looking for the culprit after this note she would know she had permission to continue on the bolder track from here on out. It was only day six after all; she had six more days to go after this until she had to make her reveal, and she could always bail if she had to. 

Now she just needed to figure out where to hide the pillow so Regina would have to look for it. She seemed to enjoy the hunt for the ring when she finally relented and looked, so Emma should hide this one too. It was an added bonus that meant she wouldn’t have to do any more sneaking into Regina’s office to get this one into position. Fifteen minutes later, stanza three added, Emma slipped the poem into the envelope and dropped it in her briefcase which rested next to the bright gold box containing the pillow.

 _So where will you find your next surprise?  
_ _You’ll have to search high and low.  
_ _Maybe above the star so bright?_  
Or maybe down below…


	7. Chapter 7

Getting the note into the morning mail had been a cinch due to Elsa’s second day of illness. She simply walked past reception where Taylor was neck deep in phone calls, emails and deliveries and dropped it on the pile of mail that he clearly hadn’t sorted through yet. Throwing him a pitying glance as he was frantically leafing through a stack of papers and assuring the person on the other end of the phone he had hooked between his shoulder and ear that he would find “it” if they could just describe it because it was only his second day and he was just a temp, Emma headed back to her desk to get a jump on something for the highrise she was working on.

Things were going well and Emma had managed to avoid a crisis with the conduit line layout by sweet talking the electric contractor into moving the lines over the six inches the city was requiring without too much pushback. Of course she had to promise him first bid on the next project she led but that wouldn't be a problem as the company seemed fair and flexible in her dealings with them so far. As lunchtime approached, she was hopeful she might even get out to grab something to eat today. 

It was about one o’clock when Emma headed back up to the office via the elevator after lunch. Her good mood wasn’t ruined yet but she _had_ noticed that Regina hadn’t found day six’s gift and was starting to let that self-doubt creep in again. What if Regina had read the note and been offended? What if she had thrown it out? What if Taylor hadn’t even given her the note yet or worse, what if he had lost it? 

Groaning deeply she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet nervously as the crowded elevator stopped at every floor on the way back up to the office. She should have taken the stairs. It would have been faster, less crowded, and the best part would have been not being forced to endure yet another replay of Mariah Carey’s screeching rendition of _All I Want For Christmas_ Is You while she waited to be transported up to the office.

When the doors opened for the fifth floor she couldn’t take it anymore and bailed. Exiting the stairwell a minute later just behind the reception desk, she headed over to ask Taylor if he had delivered Regina’s mail yet. Hm. No Taylor. Where could he have gone? There was no way he would have had time to go to lunch. Did he quit? Emma felt a wave of pity for the guy again as her eyes swept over the reception desk. The thing looked like a tornado and a hurricane had had a grudge match and both lost. One thing that was noticeable though, was the stack of mail that had been on the top of the desk was gone now. _Great._ Emma took a deep breath and told herself not to panic and play it cool either way.

As she headed back to her desk something seemed off and she couldn’t quite place it until she noticed Mary Margaret standing at her desk staring in the direction of the Christmas tree. That’s when she noticed the fact that almost everyone in the office was looking in the exact same direction. Making a quick detour she slid up next to Mary Margaret.

“What are we looking at?”

“You missed it.”

“Missed what? What are we looking at?” Upon the repeat of the question Emma’s eyes drifted to the bottom of the tree where Taylor was on his hands and knees up to his neck in boxes and ribbons. “What the hell…?”

“Regina--”

“Regina, what?”

“Let me finish!” Mary Margaret snapped at her. “Regina came out of her office like twenty minutes ago and was standing by the tree and then just started going off about safety precautions and how at this time of year with so many deliveries you can never be too careful and how we need to be sure that everyone is signed in at the door and if there are people in the office we don’t recognize they should be reported. She went off on potential bomb threats and then all of a sudden demanded that the poor temp go through all the boxes under the tree to make sure they were all just decorations and that if he found anything suspicious it should be brought to her office immediately.”

“Oh my God.” Emma tried to digest what she was hearing.

“Em, I think she’s lost it.” Mary Margaret dropped her voice to a whisper. “She called him Hideous Tie. Like that was actually his name. I think he was gonna cry.”

“From the looks of him, he might still.” Emma chuckled.

“Are you seriously laughing at the kid?”

“Taylor, his name is Taylor, M2.”

“Oh. Yeah, I… whatever, I still feel bad for him. You don’t think Regina actually like received a bomb threat do you? No, she would have evacuated us then. You don’t think she’s been hitting the Christmas cheer a little hard in that office of hers if you know what I mean, do you? Extra special eggnog?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. She not a drinker. I mean...well, I just mean she’s not the type to get drunk at work anyway. Maybe there was something on the news that freaked her out.” 

Taylor was standing up again and making an attempt to reorganize the obviously all empty boxes back into some semblance of order under the tree. “Doesn’t look like he found anything anyway so we can all go back to normal now.”

“She has been acting so odd the past few days, I swear.” Mary Margaret mumbled almost to herself as she sat back down in her chair and the rest of the office seemed to accept that as their signal to turn their attention elsewhere as well.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, M2. Probably just holiday stress. She’s got a lot on her plate, you know.” 

Mary Margaret pursed her lips and turned back to watch Emma sit down. “What I _know_ is that you seem to be defending her an awful lot lately. What I _know_ is that she’s not the only one acting weird around here lately. What I _don’t_ know is what the hell is going on with you two, lately.”

“With we two?” Emma rolled her eyes and adopted her best poker face. “There is no _we two_ , Mary Margaret. She’s forcing me to stay late again today to work on this pet project of hers so excuse me if I don’t want to think about the fact that I’ll be stuck here after hours with a psycho.”

Mary Margaret gave a small “hm” and spun back around to her monitor giving Emma the freedom to turn red with guilt over her last statement. She was actually looking forward to tonight’s work session and now that this latest development had unfolded before her, her confidence was back up where it belonged. Regina had to have read the poem, loved it, or well...at least not hated it, and came up with some crazy reason to have all the presents under the tree searched. Poor Taylor! Poor everyone! She was so sorry she had missed the show Regina put on; based on everyone’s reactions it must have been convincing. But it was probably for the best she hadn’t been there. She never would have been able to keep a straight face. _Wrong star, Regina._ Did she really think she was going to get off that easy with two gifts basically in the same place?

Emma wondered how long it would take her to figure out the gift was hidden among the dozens of fake packages under the giant fifteen foot tree in the lobby of the building since the office tree had been a bust. She didn’t think she’d have to give her another clue, but maybe if she hadn’t found it by tomorrow… _oh crap._ Tomorrow was Saturday. Quickly running a mental calculation in her head, she had six more days to go and that would take her right up to the night before the party but only if she didn’t skip the weekend.

How on earth was she going to get two gifts to Regina over the weekend? She couldn’t just give her three things on Monday; that would be lame. But then again, the thought of being arrested for breaking and entering wasn’t really thrilling her either. Emma sighed. She had felt like she was on an emotional roller coaster the last few days and this newest revelation made her feel like she had just taken another plunge down the track. 

*****

Regina sat in her leather chair staring at the note in her hand. This was becoming a familiar scene in her office and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. This note...this note had stepped over the line. The poems had become more flirty over the last few days but this one did not really qualify as flirty so much as it screamed of definitive sexual interest. “You’ll _come_...at my place.” Regina didn’t know how to react to the advance and her earlier tirade in the main office in an attempt to check the tree had been both futile and ridiculous. While she was sure no one suspected what was going on, she was still embarrassed at her childish attempt to cover her real motives. Whomever was doing this was clearly an employee and had probably thought she was crazy. 

Regina’s fist hit the desk in frustration. _What star?_ There was obviously a lot more to this little game then she had initially thought and now that she was becoming invested her competitive streak was taking over. There was no way she was going to be bested by a clue on what looked like it was probably only the halfway point in this venture. But she had already been bested, hadn’t she? Six days of these little gifts starting last Friday. More than a week and she was clueless as to who her admirer was. 

Regina was no fool. She just needed to piece the clues together and she could figure this out. Or, better yet, she needed to install a camera in the corner of her office to catch the trespasser red handed next time. Although it didn’t seem today’s gift was in her office or for that matter maybe even on this floor at all. She had torn apart her own space already and had Hideous Tie do a pretty good job of sweeping the outer office for suspicious packages to no avail so now what? _Star...under a star._ The only other star in the whole building Regina could think of was the one on the... _oh my God._ She didn’t.

Regina had taken to referring to her idiot as female in her mind in hopes that this whole thing might actually not be as bad as she thought. 

Not that she was interested in anyone that way of course. Female or not. Certainly not an employee. Regina assured herself for what she didn’t want to admit was probably the tenth time or more over the last few days that she was not looking for any kind of relationship. That would be ridiculous. She was too busy for relationships. Fiddling absentmindedly with the purple plastic ‘stone’ on her finger she made sure to repeat that idea to herself multiple times to hammer the point home. She wasn’t some lost high school girl waiting to be swept off her feet by a secret admirer. She was a grown ass woman and even if she were interested, which she most certainly was not, there was no way this idiot would be a viable candidate even if they did seem kind of thoughtful and sweet and naughty and…

Regina shook her head. How the hell was she going to search the giant pile of presents under the lobby Christmas tree? She couldn’t very well have Hideous Tie crawling around down there ripping boxes open. Security would have a field day with that one and have the whole building shut down looking for actual bombs. 

Standing up abruptly she decided that instead of trying to be secretive about it she would simply march down to the lobby and look for her name on a box. It had to be easy to spot. Well..it had better be. She would come back upstairs and make a big show of the box in front of everyone and watch for a clue. Someone who looked a little too calm or a little too nervous. And if that didn’t do it, she would speak to security directly about having a camera installed at least temporarily in her office, citing the holiday night staff as her reason for the added security measures.

*****

“How the hell do you keep missing these things?” Mary Margaret hissed as Emma sat down at her desk.

“Missing what? I had to pee. So sue me.” 

“She did it again. I’m telling you, she’s got to be drinking.”

“Who did what again?”

“Regina! Will you keep up, Emma? She was out here with this big gold box talking about how lovely it was but how packages can be deceiving and you never know what’s behind the lid. She kept making weird eye contact with everyone like she was waiting for someone to chime in. I tell you, I don’t know what the hell is going on but I think you should be careful if you’ve got another meeting with her tonight. Keep me on speed dial if you need to, or better yet keep 9-1-1 typed into your phone just in case.”

Emma’s smirk grew slowly on her face but quickly dropped when she caught Mary Margaret staring at her. “Now who’s being crazy, Mary Margaret? I don’t know what’s going on with her either but I doubt I’ll need to get the police involved to protect me from her while we draw up the plans for the shelter tonight.”

Mary Margaret did not break her stare and almost seemed to study her. “You’re hiding something. I’m not sure what yet, but I’ll figure it out. Emma Swan has never defended the head bitch before and now it’s like you’re her best friend all of a sudden.”

Emma produced a scoff that was too dramatic to be taken seriously. “You’re insane. I don’t like her.” Emma’s mouth slammed shut as her face reddened and Mary Margaret’s mouth dropped open.

“You like her?” Mary Margaret had the decency to drop her voice to a whispered scream.

“No! What? I said I _don’t_ like her. Stop being so damn childish!”

“Uh-huh,” Mary Margaret closed her mouth and adopted a smirk the size of Texas. “The lady doth protest too much, I think. Oh my God, Emma. She’s gorgeous, I get it but seriously? You’ve worked with her for years. Have you been pining this entire time?”

“Shut up, Mary Margaret. I mean it. You’re being ridiculous.”

“Mmhmmm… I’m sure it’s none of my business either way.”

“You’re damn straight it’s not. And the way is not _that_ way anyway.” Emma spoke through clenched teeth at her back now as she slid her coat on.

“Whatever you say, Em. Enjoy your date with Regina...oh excuse me, I mean your work session with Ms. Mills.” 

Throwing an ill received wink over her shoulder, Mary Margaret headed for the door with Emma torn between sending a stuck out tongue or a middle finger in her direction. She opted for both.

*********

“Tacky Taco? You can’t be serious?” Regina looked over the small take out menu Emma had pulled out of her pocket like it contained a list of all insect dishes.

“Trust me. You’ll love it. They make the most slammin’ enchiladas you’ve ever tasted,” Emma assured her.

“Is there anything on this menu that does not include half a pound of cheese and sour cream, Miss Swan?” 

Emma faked a gasp with a mischievous wink. “Why on earth would anyone want something that did not include at a minimum, half a pound of cheese?”

Rolling her eyes with an almost amused look on her face, Regina told Emma to just order whatever she wanted and she would have a side of black beans and salsa fresca. 

“No way. You’re are not eating beans and salsa for dinner. I’ll have them swap out the sour cream and cut the cheese in half for you. You’re getting the the enchiladas.”

“Miss Swan, I…” Regina sighed. “Fine. Whatever. But next time, I’m ordering dinner and you’re eating some vegetables.”

“I ate a salad last time!”

“Yes, and a cheeseburger.” Regina was almost laughing at her now. “You eat like a child, Miss Swan.”

“I happen to like what I eat and besides,” Emma patted her flat stomach “I work it off at the gym.”

“Mmhmm. Shall we get back to work then or do you need to do some sit-ups before dinner?”

Dropping her fork into the empty tin, Emma grinned at Regina’s equally empty container. “Oh, shut up.” Regina snarked with just a hint of amusement in her voice. “You still need to eat more vegetables.”

“Yes. Ma’am. Next time it’s all tofu and bean sprouts. Promise.” Emma gathered the empty containers for the trash and and as she stood up to toss them added, “Gonna need a _full_ pound of cheese to choke that down.”

The sound of Regina laughing out loud was not something Emma had ever heard before and the unmeasured ease at which it burst forth filled Emma with warmth. There she was; the woman Emma had met five years ago. She wasn’t gone after all. Sadly, just as quickly at it had begun it was over, almost as if Regina had caught herself doing something wrong. She stood and adjusted her jacket like one would adjust a suit of armor.

“We should get back to work.”

Nine o’clock came and went without either woman checking their watch. They worked together seamlessly tossing out ideas and at times finishing each other’s thoughts. As the hour hand approached ten, Emma yawned for the first time and Regina glanced up from the autocad program they had been sharing. “Oh my goodness! It’s almost ten. I should not have kept you here this late!”

“No worries. I didn’t even notice the time until just now,” Emma said through another yawn. 

“You should go home. It’s late and it’s Friday. I’m sure you have plenty to do this weekend and don’t want to be wiped out for it.”

Emma studied Regina for a second before opening her mouth to respond. “You are going home too, right?”

“I have a few more things I need to finish up here and then I’ll head out.”

“Regina,” Emma ignored the slight lift in Regina’s brow at the casual use of her first name, “this will all be here Monday morning. You’re going home. I’ll walk out with you.”

The insistence in her voice coupled with the crick in Regina’s neck and the heaviness of her eyelids was miraculously enough to convince Regina to relent. “Fine.” She sighed. “Just give me a minute and we can walk out together.”

Emma went to grab her things from her desk and then headed back to Regina’s office. On the way back she passed the Christmas tree and tried to stifle the smirk that broke on her lips as she noticed the disheveled pile of presents under it. Taylor hadn’t quite managed to get everything back the way Regina originally had it. _Good try, but not quite, kid._

As they exited the elevator their path took them past the huge tree in the lobby of the building. In the dim lights it was beautifully lit in thousands of miniature colored lights. The crisp white marble in the lobby reflected each color and both women stopped short simultaneously admiring the display. The star on the top of the tree slowly changed color every few seconds and Regina couldn’t help but notice that when it changed to green Emma’s eyes almost seemed to glow right along with it.

“Aaachoo!” The security guard at the door snorted and coughed loudly breaking the miniature spell that had been cast. 

Clearing her throat, Regina gave the tree a curt nod of approval and headed for the door with purpose, followed closely by Emma. 

As they exited the main doors both women seemed to hesitate for a brief moment.

“Um...I guess I’ll see you Monday then.” Emma felt like she was ending a date and was awkwardly trying to decide whether or not to go in for the kiss.

“Yes. Well… thank you again for staying so late. Are you taking the subway?”

“Nope. Walking. You?” _One word answers like a neanderthal. Suave Emma. Suave._

 _“_ I'm just around the corner a bit so I’m walking as well. So…have a good night then.” The clear culmination of the conversation did not convince either woman to move for another few seconds of silence but it was Regina who broke the stand-off first, nodded, and spun on her heels walking briskly up the block as Emma watched. 

_Coward...You should have offered to walk her home._

As Regina rounded the corner of her street moments later, a frustrated sigh escaped. Entering her building and giving the doorman a nod she shook her head at herself. What was the problem? It’s not like she expected Emma to walk her home or anything. 


	8. Chapter 8

The seventh day of Christmas began with seven swans a swimming and though her last name happened to be Swan she couldn’t very well give herself as a present. A smirk formed on Emma’s lips as she engaged in a brief fantasy starring Regina prying the lid from a large gift-wrapped box topped with a giant red bow, those gorgeous brown eyes widening with first shock then interest when she popped up wearing nothing but a matching red ribbon.

Yeah, it was a bit too early in their little holiday game for that. Therefore, she had to come up with something else. Renting seven actual swans was out too…

Emma barely slept. Her mind refusing to completely shut down she kept tossing and turning. By the time the sun peeked through her blinds to officially welcome her to Saturday she may have slept a collective ninety minutes--give or take. A quick trip to the convenience store across the street she returned with a four pack of Starbucks brand energy drinks and halfway through the first can an idea struck her. So thrilled with it she had to kiss the chilled can. 

Seven swans a swimming. Not actual swans, but what about Swan Lake, the ballet composed by Tchaikovsky? She could make a CD for Regina’s (hopefully) aural pleasure. However, the entire CD wouldn’t consist of all Swan Lake numbers. She couldn’t be certain of Regina’s music tastes but she herself wasn’t a huge fan of ballet music. Therefore, the CD would begin with the three minute long Swan Theme Emma had heard several times before then shift into much more modern tracks. Much sexier tracks.

She felt a little crazy laughing out loud to herself while briskly rubbing her palms together like some ridiculous villain. She was taking a risk that Regina wouldn’t care for the mixed CD, that the tracks wouldn’t be enjoyable, wouldn’t cause her to feel...something, but she was willing to gamble. Therefore Emma spent the entire morning putting what she deemed the perfect playlist together. Hoping Regina had a CD player, she burned it, once again rubbing her palms while waiting.

 _Yep, losing my mind. Do I care? Not so much_. 

*********

The perfect cup of tea, the perfect fanfic from one of her favorite websites, and wrapped in a large, luxurious throw blanket upon the couch was the perfect way to spend a snowy Saturday afternoon. So imagine Regina’s annoyance when the doorbell rang interrupting her quiet, entertaining bliss. She contemplated ignoring them but insistent knocking quickly following the ring had her growling low in her throat while she threw the blanket off before tossing her tablet upon it. 

During the short walk to the door she made a promise to herself that if her caller was someone attempting to sell her something or get her to sign some type of petition she would kill them and toss their limp body into the trash chute down the hall. Checking the peephole she groaned. He looked like a teenage boy. Okay, if he were selling something for school she wouldn’t kill him. Maybe just scare the crap out of him. Then buy the damned box of cookies. 

Door thrown open Regina greeted a broad smile with a raised brow. She scanned the length of the lanky young man noting he hadn’t a clipboard in his hands or any cookies at his feet. Gloved hands peeked from the deep pockets of baggy jeans while he continued to smile despite her lack of one. Cheeks red, he shuffled from one foot to the other obviously cold despite being sufficiently bundled. Right hand pulled from his pocket he held it out for a shake while introducing himself as Henry.

Although her brow hadn’t returned to its natural position Regina pressed her palm to his cloth covered one for a brief shake. “What might I do for you, Henry?” she asked sounding more cordial than she felt. 

“You’re Regina, right?”

The eyebrow’s twin joined it. What the hell did this boy want? Who was he? “Who wants to know?”

Smile beginning to falter he pointed toward himself. “I do. Henry,” he repeated as though he deemed her senile.

Regina rolled her eyes. “Yes, I understand that your name is Henry, but why do I care? Get to the point of you interrupting my morning. How do you know who _I_ am?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

She frowned while beginning to shut the door. “Fine by me. In that case get the hell off my--hey!” Frown deepening Regina looked toward the booted foot blocking her from completely shutting the door. Despite his age she might have to kill him anyway. Sending him a glare she usually reserved for those employees on the cusp of being told to pack their shit and get the hell out, Regina had to admit deep down she was a smidgen impressed the boy refused to remove his boot. In fact he appeared to stand taller, the face with the reddened cheeks becoming more determined. 

“Ms. Mills, I’m not trying to bug you. I just need to give you something then I’ll go away.” 

The moment he unzipped his thick coat and reached inside Regina wondered if he had a gun. What if he was the son of someone she had fired and he came seeking revenge? What if--oh. A padded manila envelope? Despite widening eyes she clutched the envelope pushed into her hand. What was she doing? Bringing up the danger of bombs yesterday as an excuse to search for her latest gift made her think what if there truly were a small bomb within the envelope? Or anthr--

“It’s the seventh day of Christmas, Ms. Mills.” Henry’s huge smile returned as he took a couple steps back, hands plunged into his jean pockets. “Hope you enjoy.” 

Ignoring the questions fired at him he took off down the hall and though she merely wore pajamas Regina took off after him with a death grip on one end of the envelope. Unfortunately, by the time she reached the bank of elevators Henry had entered the middle one, its doors refusing to open regardless of how many times she punched the button. 

She groaned. “Little shit.” Another elevator opened yet she chose not to ride it, figuring by the time she reached the lobby he would have vanished. Taking her time returning to her apartment she thoughtfully gazed at the envelope. She wondered what would happen concerning the gifts since Christmas was fast approaching and now had her answer. 

The idiot knew where she lived. 

*********

Sprawled on her couch Emma stared toward the reality show playing on her flat screen yet if asked she wouldn’t be able to explain what was going on. Her thoughts were much too focused on her boss, wondering again and again if she had been given the package yet. Would she even accept it? Emma frowned. That woman was so stubborn she might have turned the delivery boy away. If so, how would Emma get the CD to her? She supposed she could email the files, but she would have to open another account. Wait. The frown deepened. Could Regina possibly discover who sent the email by locating the IP address? 

Emma groaned. Too complicated, too risky. Her young neighbor simply had to come through. Worse comes to worst if Henry failed to deliver her package she could sneak over, drop it in front of Regina’s door, vigorously knock then bolt like her ass was on fire. Emma chuckled while imagining herself running through the halls of her boss’s apartment complex like she had just stolen someone’s purse. 

The ringing doorbell causing her to jump up so quickly she almost ran into a leg of her coffee table, she hurried toward the door and threw it open. A grin curved her lips upon spotting the satisfied smile upon her neighbor’s glowing face. It wasn’t necessary to inquire as there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he had been triumphant. 

Reaching into her pocket she extracted a couple twenty dollar bills, which she offered him. Gloved fingers removing the money from her hand his smile appeared to double as he thanked her. “No.” Emma shook her head while relief coursed through every inch of her previously tense body. “Thank _you_ , Henry. She accepted without argument?”

The teenager laughed. “Didn’t give her much of a choice. Kinda shoved it into her hand like a process server then ran like my ass was on fire.”

Emma laughed so heartily Henry verbally wondered about it. She shook her head again. “Nothing, kid. If I had a son though, I’d want him to be just like you.” 

*********

Seated behind the desk of her home office Regina stared at the unopened package like she had been doing for the last fifteen minutes. What had the idiot tucked inside? Part of her wanted to toss the padded envelope in a drawer and forget it, but she knew that was impossible. _You know you want to._ Regina frowned at her own inner monologue.

Dark eyes narrowed, a hand suddenly clutching the cool handle of a pointed blade. Damn it, she most certainly did. A smooth swipe across the flap and the letter opener discarded, a hand disappeared within the envelope soon pulling out a square shaped object wrapped in bubble wrap, a small sheet of scented paper attached with scotch tape. 

Regina smirked. Bubble wrap inside an already padded envelope. The idiot was obviously into extreme safety. Without reading the words arranged into another poem Regina gently removed the paper from the unidentified object and brought it toward her nose for a most delicate sniff. 

Hmm. Light, crisp, citrusy and Regina suspected cologne. She had to admit it appealed to her. Question was did it belong to a man or woman? As she sniffed again, eyes closing of their own volition she decided most likely a woman. She could imagine...a woman smelling like this. 

So was it a clue? Fingers forced to release the sheet onto the desk Regina sat back, expression thoughtful. What was she to do? Walk into the office on Monday and start sniffing her female employees? An image of herself doing just that caused her to laugh. That coupled with her abrupt bomb inspection might earn her a trip to the nearest nut house. 

Grabbing the bubble wrapped object with her bottom lip held between her teeth Regina began to remove the tape, groaning once she discovered piece four. Just how much tape did the idiot think it needed? Seven pieces later she was able to remove the wrapping finding a plastic jewel case within, a gold-colored CD within that had _For Regina’s Ears Only_ printed in black marker around its circumference. 

Ears. So whatever that CD held was for her to listen. Music perhaps? Christmas music? Regina rolled her eyes. As if there weren’t enough of that cra--stuff playing everywhere she went. Instead of loading the CD into her laptop she put it down and reached for the pleasantly scented paper along with her glasses. With glasses in place she began to read. 

_I hope you’re having a good morning,  
_ _perhaps this will make it even better.  
_ _Let the music wrap you in it's warm embrace,  
_ like I'd like to, um I mean...like a comfy sweater.

 _It’s the seventh day of Christmas  
_ _you’re aware that music moves the soul  
_ _Close your eyes and perk your ears, love  
_ Allow the disc to take you on a sensual mental stroll 

A dark brow spiked in response to the word sensual. What? Had the idiot loaded the sexiest songs they could find onto the gold-colored CD? As she pressed the small button on the right side of her laptop Regina reminded herself that she wasn’t curious, as she impatiently drummed her fingers on the desk waiting for it to load.

Having traveled to the kitchen for a fresh cup of tea as the CD loaded Regina was back at her desk ready to click on the first file, all of them unnamed. Great. She would have to guess what these were. Regina glanced toward her phone. Fortunately she had a proficient song finder app installed. 

The file at the top of the folder clicked, she turned up the volume at sat back, the cup sandwiched between her palm. Surprised yet pleased to recognize the track within seconds Regina’s eyes closed, a tiny smile upon her lips as Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake carried her away. She understood. Seven swans a-swimming. 

Dark eyes popped open as a pair of ears no longer heard the song. 

Swans. Swan Lake. Emma Swan. 

Replaying events from the last week Regina concluded with shaking her head. No. No, that was ridiculous. There was no way Emma was the idiot. She could _be_ an idiot, but she wasn’t the Christmas idiot. The woman sometimes seemed so flustered Regina couldn’t picture her pulling off something so bold. Swan was a mere coincidence.

Letting it go as the track prepared to end Regina expected another classical piece to reach her ears, but the next song almost caused her to lose the grip on her tea. What...was this? The seductive beat, the even more seductive lyrics which involved clothes, the removal of clothes, kissing exposed skin…

Regina’s mouth fell open as she barely registered her hands putting the cup down so involved was she with listening. She had never heard this song and she admitted to herself that she yearned to hear it again. And perhaps once more after that. However, there were five more songs awaiting her attention. 

By the fourth song she wished to exchange her tea for a chilled beverage because for some reason it had become so warm in the room. Thinking that actually a brilliant idea Regina left long enough to grab an imported beer from the refrigerator. Usually she poured them in a glass, but not in the mood to transfer the liquid she merely removed the cap and returned to her chair taking a deep pull. 

She didn’t recognize any of these songs yet she enjoyed each one a little more than the last. Were they dirty? No. Should someone like young Henry the delivery boy be listening to them? Absolutely not. These were sexy, steamy songs meant for grownup ears solely and the particular grownup idly picking at the label of an already third of the way empty beer bottle sat at full attention.

Although still dealing with unusual warmth a smile discovered Regina’s lips upon the seventh song (she wished there were more but supposed her anonymous Christmas present giver had chosen seven tracks on purpose) beginning to play. Finally one she recognized. This one was actually on one of her own personal playlists already. 

She loved it. Regina had to admit to herself that she absolutely adored her seven steamy swans. Connecting her phone to the laptop so she could transfer the songs her fingers played along the back of her new case while waiting for her laptop and phone to sync. _Bold idiot_. A smile tugged at her lips without her permission. 

*********

Fingers threaded through soft blonde locks Regina arched up to sample the lips of her faceless lover when a text notification yanked her from the erotic dream. Blinking several times then searching the bed as though she expected to find her, whoever she was, the woman sighed. Of course she was alone. She preferred it that way. At least that was what Regina repeatedly told herself. 

Sleep rubbed from her eyes she sat up and snatched the offending device from the nightstand. Sometimes she just wanted to chuck this thing. Especially on a Sunday morning, the main day she looked forward to sleeping in. Regina glanced toward the clock then frowned. Not even nine o’clock yet. What was so urgent it couldn’t wait until Monday? 

Thumb placed against the circle unlocking her phone Regina noted she had a text message from...anonymous? A groan passed through her lips as she had a feeling this was her fav--the idiot first thing in the morning. Tapping on the message confirmed Regina’s suspicions and she began to read the poem within. 

_  
It’s the eighth day of Christmas  
_ _I think you’re in need of a treat.  
_ _Something that reminds me of those lips  
_ meaning it will be decadent and sweet 

_But where could it be on this Sunday morn?  
_ _To nab a taste search high and low  
_ _Under the bed? In a closet? On top of a shelf? No.  
_ You must ascend to where the snowflakes go. 

Regina’s eyebrows skyrocketed. Outside? And how was she to travel up to snow? Her mouth fell open as she quickly reread the second stanza. The roof? Was this idiot absolutely mad? Had they taken an insurance policy out on her and intended to shove her from the building? Regina thought about calling _herself_ an idiot while shaking her head. Whoever this was, they clearly didn’t mean her any harm. They were obviously just out of their mind. 

Bottom lip captured between her teeth she studied the keys below the message box. What would happen if she responded? Making up her mind to do so her thumb began to fly across the digital keys. 

_Who is this?_

*********

Emma felt no shame as she busied herself tucking away a stack of buttery pancakes on the side of a large plate filled with hash browns, scrambled eggs and bacon. She told herself she would require the fuel. The small dispenser of maple syrup grabbed she started to add more of the sweet liquid when an incoming text message interrupted her. 

Of course it wasn’t her regular phone but the disposal she purchased yesterday. Knowing it could only be one person caused the butterflies within her stomach to take flight. Asked who she was she licked her fingers. Should she respond or ignore it? No, there wasn’t any way she could do the latter. Syrup pushed away and hands wiped Emma reached for the disposable phone. 

_Who is _this_?_

**Do you think you’re funny?**

_On occasion._

**What is your name?**

_Nunya._

**….Nunya???**

_Yep. Nunya Business_ 😜

🖕

Emma laughed while ignoring the disapproving frowns from the elderly couple at the booth in front of hers. Picking up a slice of bacon, she took a bite and thoughtfully chewed deciding on what to say shortly after swallowing. 

_Why, Ms. Mills, are you propositioning me?_

**You wish.**

_Quite possibly_ 😏

**Idiot.**

_No, it’s Nunya. Actually, since you’re being so rude you should refer to me as Miss Business._

**So you _are_ a woman.**

_Last I checked._

**Smartass.**

**You seriously want me to go to the roof?**

_I seriously want you to follow wherever the clue leads you._

**Which is the roof of my building???**

_(sigh) I’m detecting a lot of whining. How about a little more action?_

**How about I put my foot up your ass? 😠**

Emma laughed again. She couldn’t figure out why but it amused her each time Regina insulted her. If she weren’t so eager for the woman to follow instruction she would have been delighted to spend the bulk of her Sunday exchanging text based barbs. 

_Hmm. I’m kinky but not that much. Thanks for the offer tho._

She waited. When a full minute passed without Regina writing anything and those three tiny dots refused to appear Emma typed another message. 

_Have we finally gotten off our butt?_

Another minute and still no sign of her. Emma’s heart began to beat faster, a knot beginning to form within her stomach. Was she on her way? Was she actually pissed? She glanced toward her regular phone checking for a message from her lookout but found nothing. 

As she finished adding the perfect amount of sugar and cream to her thankfully refilled coffee, she picked up her spoon to stir and heard a familiar ping. Attention returned to her phone a smile (albeit a shaky one) landed on her lips. There he was. 

**The fish has snatched the bait.**

_What?_

**The baker has iced the cake.**

_Huh?_

**The eagle is about to land in the nest!**

_I’m sorry. What???_

**EMMA! Dude, she’s on her way to the damned roof!**

Experiencing a laugh so hearty she felt the need to cover her mouth Emma had to wait until the majority of it subsided in order to tap the keys. 

_Tsk tsk. Only 15 years old. You kiss your mother with that mouth, kid?_

**Grr…**

_Hehe. I knew what you were saying with the first message. Just wanted to see how many of those you could come up with._

_Hey, thanks for all your help this weekend._

**Nope. Thank _you_ for the easy eighty bucks! Mom’s getting more than slippers this Xmas.**

Smiling, Emma clicked off both devices and stood up. One phone slid into each back pocket of her jeans she unzipped the front pocket of a large backpack on the cushioned seat and extracted her wallet. Shifting to grab the bill left on the edge of the table klutzy fingers knocked into the mug causing it to tip over, warm coffee immediately spreading along the surface. 

Emma groaned. “Really?” Grabbing all unused napkins to soak up the mess she paused since the prompt waitress beat her to it, waving off an apology and even flashing Emma a sweet smile. If she were cursing her customer within her head Emma couldn’t tell by her pleasant expression. A few bills removed from her wallet she tripled the tip she had intended to leave and thanked the young woman. 

Coat, knit cap and gloves slid on she took a deep and hopefully calming breath. Wallet shoved into the pocket and backpack grabbed Emma placed one strap upon her shoulder and exited the booth, hurrying toward the counter where she waved to catch the attention of the sixty-something woman who owned the pancake house. 

“Granny,” she started wondering not for the first time what this woman’s real name was, “thanks again for the use of your roof. The pancakes were bomb as usual.” 

“I suppose that’s a good thing.” Granny chuckled while wiping her hands on a soft cloth. “And you’re welcome.” Narrowed eyes took a moment to study the hefty looking backpack. “Don’t know what you’re doing up there but be careful.” 

Sending the older woman a wink and a grin Emma bolted down the hall of the restaurant headed in the opposite direction of the bathrooms toward the stairs. 

*********

Dressed in sweatpants, a sweater, coat, scarf, knit cap, gloves and boots, Regina was actually warm upon arriving atop the roof. However, following a couple of minutes worth of searching for today’s present a chill began to seep into her bones despite thick layering. Hands upon her hips she walked near the edge of the impressive sized building and looked far below. This was ridiculous. Thanks to that idiot she would probably develop pneumonia on this ridiculous treasure hunt. 

Phone pulled from her coat pocket she found it difficult to use with the thick glove. Despite knowing her hand was about to feel like an ice cube she used her teeth to remove it then set to typing. 

_No bullshit, “Nunya”. Just tell me where it is._

Regina waited and waited while staring at the phone willing those three dots to appear. She stared so long her eyes actually crossed and following a blink noted that five minutes had passed. Forget this. It was too damn frigid to remain up there. If the idiot wanted to give her a present bad enough they could behave like a grown up, come over and knock on her--

What the hell was that? Brown eyes widened as she took a couple steps back because she could swear that thing was headed straight at her. Once close enough Regina realized it was a drone carrying what appeared to be a blue and white grocery bag. The closer it drew the uneasier she became and just as she decided to bolt back inside the drone lowered to the roof’s floor, parking about ten feet away. 

Was that a camera on the front? Regina felt like she was being watched and it was a little unnerving. She also felt the drone was waiting for her to do something but her booted feet were seemingly frozen in place. Finally after a couple of minutes of stalemate the drones turbines spun again and it rose a couple feet from the ground, slowly approaching as if Regina were a frightened animal. Hovering a couple feet from the ground she noted the camera still seemed focused on her. 

Reminding herself this was just a game, Regina reached forward and almost in slow motion wrapped her fingers around the bag. The moment she did the drone settled back to the rooftop. While trying to keep one eye on the expensive looking device as if thinking it a monster that awaited the perfect moment to attack Regina peered into the bag, a tiny moan released when she spotted the square purple box with a deep purple bow atop. Vosges Haut Milk Chocolat. The prime definition of decadent as well as pricey, at around seventy dollars per pound. A small note containing a poem attached read:

_It’s the eighth day of Christmas  
_ _I'm proud of your willingness to play.  
_ _Wrap your lips around these sweets.  
_ Like I'll wrap my arms around you someday.

_(hopefully)_

  
Her gaze shifted toward the resting drone. “Who are you?” she whispered. She stared as though expecting it to respond. “Hmm.” An idea occurring Regina dropped the bag and swiftly reached out to grab the drone. Perhaps if she kept it hostage “Nunya” would show her face in order to get her expensive toy back. Her plan backfired when the drone surprised her by instantly starting and leaping into the air with such quickness one of its propellers sliced her finger. An expletive muttered, Regina jammed the already bleeding digit into her mouth as the drone seemed to hesitate before soaring away with her frowning at its retreat. 


	9. Chapter 9

She could feel the intensity of that glare. The two sharply dressed women to her right most likely wanted to murder her, but she would be damned if she would miss this opportunity of riding to their floor together. Therefore, disgruntled murmurs and uber glares ignored Emma repeatedly punched the door open button like an eager five year old while her boss approached. 

It wasn’t that she held the elevator for Regina that upset the other occupants. They were annoyed because Regina had barely passed through the entrance to the building when Emma spotted her and began repeatedly hitting the button for what felt like an eternity. 

Once she stepped onto the elevator Emma pressed the button for the twelfth floor then took a couple steps back so they stood side by side. Catching Regina’s gaze she smiled and greeted her. 

Regina offered a tight smile in return. “Good morning, Miss Swan. It wasn’t necessary to do that.” 

Emma’s smile merely brightened. “You’re welcome, Ms. Mills.” The elevator opening on the third floor she tried not to show how relieved she felt when the two women exited. That smile remained despite one of them pausing long enough to flash her a final glare. Once the doors shut she returned her attention to the quiet woman beside her noticing Regina was busy typing something on her phone. “Who ya textin’?” _What the fuck is wrong with me?_ She was starting to wrack up the glares from people today. Thinking it a wise idea to drop the smile and perhaps shut her mouth Emma was about to busy herself with inspecting the floor button bank again when Regina’s bandaged finger caught her attention. 

“What happened?” When Regina merely stared, a slight frown upon her face Emma indicated her bandaged index finger. “You have a boo boo.” 

“A boo boo? Miss Swan, I am not a child.” 

_No, you most certainly are not._ Appreciative eyes scanned the length of Regina’s body before Emma forced them to remain on her face. And neck. Nothing wrong with gazing toward that neck she would love to tuck her face against and breathe in her enchanting scent. _Stop it!_ “My apologies. It seems you have an injury. What happened?” Of course she knew precisely what happened. Emma was just curious to discover what Regina would say. _Oh, I was standing atop my roof in the snow on some ridiculous treasure hunt some moron sent me on, attempting to grab a drone that almost took my finger off._

Regina looked toward her injured finger as though she had forgotten about it. A small sigh emitted she shook her head and returned to typing as she murmured, “Cutting vegetables for a salad.”

Straight up lied with no hesitation. Interesting. “And you mistook your finger for the carrot?” The recipient of a sideways glare Emma wondered why she seemed on a mission to get under the other woman’s skin. She blamed the exchange of text messages. The anonymity making it so much easier to be bold and Regina seeming to enjoy their verbal sparring must be prompting Emma to try it face to face without the consent of common sense. “Um...are you okay?”

“I’ll live, Miss Swan.” The ding of the elevator reaching the twelfth floor caused them both to start forward just a bit too early as the doors hadn’t quite opened yet. Regina stopped short and time went into slow motion as Emma slammed directly into her back, her arms instinctively wrapping around the smaller frame in front of her to keep her from falling out of the now open doors.

“Miss Swan!” Regina’s surprised cry alerted at least five pairs of eyes to the scene in front of them which must have looked like a gymnastics routine at best or an attempted assault at worst. Why the heck were so many people in early today? Probably to leave early for Christmas shopping, etc. 

Doing her best to regain both their balances and simultaneously untangle herself from Regina, Emma’s face turned a deep shade of red as she became aware of their audience. Somehow, while the thought of lying on top of Regina wasn’t exactly upsetting, the idea of doing it in front of the entire office was enough to inspire her feet to find solid purchase and keep them both from hitting the ground. 

Beyond the initial shock of being knocked forward, Regina was struck by two things through the six second incident. First, the strength of the arms wrapped around her torso. It was only later in her office that she wished she had had time to appreciate them longer, although if asked why the physical contact affected her so much she wouldn’t have been able to explain it. One would have to suspect that when a person hasn’t been hugged in a long long time, any embrace, no matter what the intention, can be jarring and awaken an ache long forgotten.

The second thing to strike Regina was a light, almost citrusy scent that invaded her senses and seemed to hang in the air for just a moment as her mind fought to place its familiarity. _Swan Lake!_ Regina’s eyebrows hit the ceiling as Emma was now backing up a step and straightening herself. Struggling to compose herself as her mind reeled with this new information, Regina cleared her throat, vaguely aware of the onlookers and waited a beat for Emma to look at her.

When Emma’s mouth dropped open to most likely apologize, Regina cut her off by stepping forward with a smirk. “My, what an intoxicating scent you’re wearing, Miss Swan. Wherever may I purchase that?” Without waiting for an answer and ignoring the overwhelming desire to place a finger under her chin to aid in the closing of her mouth, Regina turned and began to walk toward her office. 

_Fuck!_ “Bathroom!” Emma blurted after her. 

Regina stopped and turned. “Excuse me?”

“The body spray. It’s um..I got it from the little basket in the bathroom.” _How the fuck does that make sense? You just got here!_

If Regina saw through the flaw in her logic, her expression didn’t show it. “Oh. Good to know. I’ll have to check it out later then.” 

“Yeah, cool, cool.” Emma added in a lame attempt to sound breezy. “Think it’s called Endless Weekend or something, from Bath and Body Works I think. I don’t know.”

Emma counted to ten just to make sure Regina had closed her office door before she uprooted her feet from the elevator bay area and made a beeline for the other end of the floor. She had to have that little sample bottle in her desk! Although she had a full twelve ounce bottle at home she could swear she still had a smaller two ounce one in her bottom desk drawer for emergency freshening needs. 

Probably looking like a lunatic as she rummaged through her bottom drawer mumbling to herself, Emma didn’t even notice Mary Margaret watching her with amusement while enjoying her morning cup of warm oatmeal as one might enjoy popcorn at the movies. Slamming the door shut with a bang Emma uttered an expletive.

“Looking for something?” If Emma wasn’t so distracted looking through her top drawer she would not have appreciated the look of complete humor on Mary Margaret’s face. 

“No. Just my body spray.”

“So yes.” Mary Margaret tried to stifle a laugh. “Did you just come from the gym? I think I have something in my desk--”

“No! I need the blue one I had in here.” 

“Hey, Em?” 

“Jesus, M2! I’m busy! What?”

Finally snapping her attention up to Mary Margaret her eyes followed the pointing finger of her left hand to the small, light blue liquid-filled bottle in her right. “Is this what you’re looking for, cranky pants?”

“Oh my God, I love you. I totally forgot you borrowed it.” Emma was up, bottle snatched into her hand and on her way to the bathroom before Mary Margaret could finish her next sentence.

“Where are you--” _That’s it._ Mary Margaret leapt to her feet, tossed her cup of apple cinnamon steel cut on the desk and took off after Emma. 

**********

Regina sat behind her desk, thoughts racing through her head like an express train. _Emma? Emma._ She couldn’t believe it was her. It didn’t make sense but then again, maybe it did. She seemed like such a puzzle all the time. Constantly fluctuating between flustered and self-assured, competent but distracted. _Yeah, cause she’s totally hot for you, dumbass._ Regina snorted and shook her head. She was being ridiculous. Just because the woman was wearing a cologne that matched the scent on the poem she received on Saturday perfectly didn’t mean it was her. Just because the woman seemed to hardly be able to breathe whenever she came near her didn’t mean it was her. Just because she knows where you live and is crazy enough to own a drone doesn’t mean...Right. Sure.

 _Emma_ . It wasn’t impossible. Regina wracked her brain trying to recall if she’d ever heard her mention dating anyone. Of course, showing some interest in her employees personal lives wasn’t something she excelled at so she could completely discount the possibility that Emma was into women. But into _her,_ specifically? It’s not like Bath and Body Works was some exclusive or special brand. Anyone could own, what did she call it? Endless Weekend. Now that sounded like Emma, Regina chuckled to herself. 

She said she got it from the office bathroom. But that didn’t make any sense. Emma was just in the elevator with her coat on. She clearly had arrived seconds before Regina. Well maybe she found the spray in the bathroom and then bought some for herself. This was ridiculous. There was only one way to get to the bottom of this. Standing up, Regina took a step in the direction of the door, then stopped and turned. There’s no reason she shouldn’t have a fresh cup of French Press waiting for her when she returned from the bathroom. 

*********

“I don’t think so” Mary Margaret’s hand hit Emma’s chest and shoved her gently, but insistently back through the bathroom door. “You’re not going anywhere until you explain yourself.”

“What the heck? Mar--”

“Uh-uh. Don’t even try it. I don’t want to hear that nothing is up or that you have to get back to your desk or any other crap you come up with. I want the truth.” Arms crossed over her chest and toe tapping, Mary Margaret’s small frame blocked the door from Emma’s escape.

Releasing a sigh, Emma just stared back at her. Part of her wanted nothing more than to spill the whole thing to her friend of so many years but part of her was petrified Mary Margaret would think she was crazy. There was also part of her that liked the fact that no one else knew about the side of Regina that she saw. It felt private and personal and she sort of liked it because she knew how private of a person Regina was. But...M2 was obviously not going to let her out of here without some kind of explanation.

“Wait...Why did you shove your body mist in the communal basket? You were going nuts looking for that just to toss it in there?” Mary Margaret’s eyes narrowed as she plucked the small bottle from amongst the other products. “Start talking, Em.”

“I...it’s nothing. I just don’t want it anymore.”

“Bullshit. Try again.” 

“Jesus, M2! Let it go. Let _me_ go!”

“Nope.” Mary Margaret leaned against the door with even more resolve, her eyebrows in the perfect middle school teacher “I’m waiting” arch.

Emma continued to look like she was having an internal argument with herself, her mouth opening and closing with indecision.

“Regina” Mary Margaret offered. “I know it has something to do with her. Spill.” Her hand shot up in a stop sign as Emma began to protest. “Don’t even try it.”

And that was it. Emma was spewing. She wasn’t sure Mary Margaret could make sense of it all as she poured out the last week and a half of events and information from the bag tied to the tree to the drone almost taking the woman’s finger off but Mary Margaret took it all in stride and even did a decent job of not looking shocked at the information. 

Five minutes later when Emma finally stopped to take a breath, Mary Margaret simply held up the body mist. “And this?” Emma relayed the events of that morning and why she had to quickly dump the body spray into the communal basket in case Regina checked for it later. 

“Wow. I’m not even sure what to say here, Em.” Mary Margaret looked at her with what Emma could have sworn was a look of pity. “You know your chances with her are like slim to none right?”

“Thanks a lot.” Emma quipped back, brow furrowing.

“No! That’s not what I mean, Emma. You’re amazing. You know that. But it’s just...Regina? She’s so…” Mary Margaret waved her hands about while attempting to come up with an adequate description of their boss.

“Amazing? Gorgeous? Intelligent? Talented?”

“Um...not what I was thinking but, yeah I guess she is some of those things. So what...you want to sleep with her?”

“What? No!” Emma paused, an image of a barely dressed Regina posed upon a bed popping into her head. “I mean...yes, of course. But it’s more than that...it’s...I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“Emma...you’re...are you in _love_ with Regina?”

“What? No of course not! Don’t be ridiculous. Do I like her? Yes. Do I think she’s hot? Oh, yes. Did I like her enough to maybe be in the crush stage? Yeah, okay, maybe that’s accurate. I care about her. I want her to be happy. That’s all. Wish she would smile and laugh more like she used to before… I mean yeah, I’ve been a little wrapped up in designing her twelve days of Christmas presents lately but that doesn’t mean I love her! It’s just something fun and maybe a little exciting and I’m lov-- _liking_ that Regina has started to participate and seems to be enjoying her gifts a little. 

“But I don’t _love_ her! I mean okay so I look forward to our after hours meetings but it’s not just so I can have a reason to be near her. And maybe sometimes I go out of my way to say hello to her on a daily basis to be nice. And I know I defend her sometimes but only when people are being unfair. And if I sometimes wonder what she’s doing during the weekend that’s normal cause I just think she works too much.”

“It’s not like I think about her while I’m falling asleep or sometimes dream of her. And even if I do, that’s normal cause I see her everyday. And knowing some of her likes and dislikes like the fact that she loves black bean brownies and loathes mustard? That’s called being a good employee, Mary Margaret!”

Mary Margaret noted that her friend breathed like she had just run a marathon. “Hey. Hey!” She placed her hands on Emma’s shoulders. “Take a deep breath. Holy crap girl...you’ve got it bad.”

Regina placed her hand on the bathroom door and pushed. While she may not have been expecting the room to be empty, she certainly wasn’t expecting a door shaking thud as the door slammed quite loudly into an obstruction on the other side followed by a distinct “Ow!” _What on earth?_

When she pushed the door open again, this time much more slowly the last thing on earth she expected to see was Mary Margaret rubbing her shoulder and Emma leaning up against the sink looking like a deer caught in headlights. Immediately snapping into baddest bitch ever mode Regina regarded the two with an arched brow.

“Is this the new break room, ladies?” Regina couldn’t help but glance in the direction of the basket on the counter and Emma couldn’t help but notice and began to groan internally.

In all the years they had worked together Emma had learned that there were times when Mary Margaret could get on your nerves, times when she could be completely absent minded and times when she could be brilliant and save your ass. Thankfully, this was one of the latter and Emma silently thanked God for her quick thinking while trying to look as bored as possible.

“Oh, Ms. Mills! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been standing in front of the door. I dragged Emma in here because I couldn’t help but notice the perfume she was wearing last week and when my nose caught whiff of it again this morning I just _had_ to know where she got it! And can you believe it? She said she found it in the basket in the bathroom!” Mary Margaret was talking just a little too fast to be convincing, but she just kept going while waving the small bottle in her hand about. 

“Who knows where it even came from? Maybe one of the night time cleaning staff dropped it in here. Probably got a free sample in the mail or something and then you know our Emma; she tracked it down and bought some for herself. Bath and Body Works right, Em?” She didn’t await a response from her friend before nodding. “Yes. that’s what you said.”

Emma felt like the subject of a science experiment as Regina seemed to study her. Her eyes never left Emma’s face watching for any break in expression. A full three seconds of silence seemed to hang in the air when Mary Margaret finally took a breath before Regina seemed to notice the break.

“Well, that _is_ an interesting story, Ms. Blanchard.” Regina continued to look directly at Emma, her voice cool and flat. “However, as lovely as I’m sure we all smell, I would think you _both_ have something better to be doing with your time, no?”

Mary Margaret waited another beat and then, reaching out and pulling the still semi-frozen Emma with her toward the door she apologized once more. “Yes! Of course...sorry, Ms. Mills.” Shoving Emma a step ahead of her she was almost through to the hallway again when she stopped short, turned and stretched an arm back through the doorway. Reaching toward the sink she dropped the small bottle back into the basket with an awkward smile and left.

Regina stood in the bathroom for another minute trying to piece together the scene that had just unfolded in front of her. What were the chances? But then, Mary Margaret’s story did _kind of_ make sense. Sort of. But then, why did the two of them look like they had just been caught planning a bank robbery? This was ridiculous. That word seemed to be coming up a lot in her life lately, especially over the last week or so. Ever since the idiot had entered her life, things had been… Regina shook her head and chuckled. She didn’t know whether to be annoyed or impressed anymore with her level of involvement in this whole thing. Grabbing the small bottle of body spray from the basket she dropped it into her pocket and headed back to her office. 

*********

Although Mary Margaret treated her to lunch they did much more talking than eating. A couple hours later, Emma’s stomach was protesting that decision and had her perusing the vending machine options in the break room. Selecting her favorite, she plopped into a chair at the small round table in the corner and thoughtfully chewed ruminating on what to do about the cream colored envelope containing today’s poem and present. Another salty, sweet bite taken she almost choked on it when Regina breezed into the break room announcing that she was positively famished. 

Since no one else was there Emma assumed she spoke to her. Of course she didn’t offer a reply, too surprised to see her boss opening and closing cabinets. As far as Emma was aware she never entered the break room unless searching for someone to reprimand. 

“Um, I suggest the vending machine. The fridge is empty other than Belle’s weird vegan cheese.” When those beautiful dark eyes settled on her Emma could’ve sworn they took the time to study her lips. Then she shoved the thought away. Mere wishful thinking. 

“Any recommendations?” Regina glanced toward the half eaten candy bar and smirked. “I don’t do nuts.”

Emma emitted a low chuckle. “That’s a damn shame.” She drawled with a wink. 

The idea of investing in duct tape crossed Emma’s mind as Regina’s eyebrow slowly slid up in her direction. “You know! Cause they’re supposed to be healthy for you, I think...” 

The hint of a smirk on the dark haired woman’s face as she turned toward the machine was the only thing that stopped Emma from ordering a pallet of the sticky stuff for her mouth right then and there. Candy bar abandoned on the table Emma jumped up and thrust a hand into her pants pocket, a second later pulling out a couple one-dollar bills, which she pushed into Regina’s hand. 

Ignoring a curious stare she pretended to study the contents of the vending machine. Why pretend? Because as a snackaholic Emma was quite aware of everything within that machine. She even knew the select codes by heart and any time something new popped up she would quickly commit it to memory. Long ago Mary Margaret amusingly dubbed her the Rainman of this vending machine.

Standing to Regina’s side with their shoulders touching she glanced toward her with a slight smile in place. “Are you in the mood for something salty or sweet?” she inquired in a soft tone. And did it sound seductive? _Careful, Emma. You’re gonna be forced to watch that dreadful sexual harassment video again_. 

Once again Regina seemed to pay extra special attention to her lips. A tongue swiping across her own without disturbing her lipstick she whispered, “Sweet. Of course.” 

It was on the tip of Emma’s tongue to question the of course but she managed to refrain. A short nod and she pointed toward the machine. “We have candy bars, dried fruit, two-pack cookies, jelly beans, Pop-Tarts--”

“What is a Pop-Tart?”

Emma stared as though antennae had just sprouted from the top of her boss’s head. “You...you don’t...you’ve never heard of a Pop-Tart?” 

Dark eyes rolled. “Obviously I haven’t, Miss Swan. What is it?” 

How in the world had she been on the planet over three decades without acquiring any Pop-Tart knowledge? Although this wasn’t remotely serious it blew Emma away. Pop-Tarts had been one of the first things she learned how to “cook” and in her third and final foster home it was what they had for breakfast every single morning. When her adoptive parents introduced her to an array of breakfast items she had been floored. However, she convinced them to keep a box of Pop-Tarts in the pantry. 

“It’s a pastry filled with different kinds of sugary fillings. Not the best thing to eat, but they’re quick to prepare, cheap and yummy. Kinda like me.” Emma forced out a laugh while it was Regina’s turn to stare like _she_ had grown antennae. _I’m losing--no, I’ve lost my freaking mind._ A nervous clearing of her throat and she indicated the vending machine again. “Care to try?”

“The Pop-Tart or you?”

Regina’s voice sounded so serious Emma wasn’t sure if she was...well, serious. “Um, ah, we could start with--”

“I’m kidding, Miss Swan.” She rolled her eyes and held up the two dollars she had been given a couple minutes ago. “What’s this?”

“My treat.” Did she sound squeaky? To her own ears Emma sounded squeaky. If Regina detected it she gave zero indication. “If you’re giving the Pop-Tarts a go this machine only has two kinds--one flavor. You may have strawberry filled plain or frosted.”

“Plain.”

Emma nodded. “Insert both bills and press C8.” She watched as her boss followed the simple instructions then leaned over to retrieve both the change and the snack. Coins handed to Emma she ripped the package and was about to take a hesitant bite when given further instruction to place the pastry in the toaster. 

Regina glanced between her snack and the four slot toaster that sat toward the edge of the counter next to a strainer filled with cleansed mugs. “Oh, it needs to be toasted first?”

“Not necessarily but I prefer it that way.” Once again she watched Regina move toward the toaster trying not to pay much attention to the delicious derriere perfectly hugged by that crimson skirt. It matched her tie. Emma’s fingers absentmindedly brushed along the silken accessory which hung from around her neck while the other woman operated the toaster. 

Taylor passed the room walking forty miles per hour. Despite his speed however, he noticed his boss within and came to an abrupt halt, peeking his head in while knocking on the part of the wall above a light switch. Telling her a Branson Reynolds was on the phone, Regina murmured something about having been awaiting his call, snatched a paper towel from the roll, wrapped her warmed Pop-Tart in it and moved to leave the break room. Pausing at the door she turned around, met Emma’s gaze, flashed a smile and thanked her for the treat. 

The moment she disappeared Emma emitted a little sigh, reclaimed her seat and what was left of her candy bar. Taking a bite she neglected to taste, she thought of the woman whose pleasant scent lingered. 

*********

After hours the office was empty except for the two of them. Seated next to one another with barely two inches of space between with lowered heads they read the notes upon the page. Thoughts having wandered Emma ceased reading a quarter of the way down the sheet of paper. 

“Hey, Regina?”

“Hm?” The focused eyes behind those glasses didn’t spare her the slightest glance. 

“Can I ask why this was so important to you? Important enough for a pro bono?” 

“You know I take on at least one pro bono project every year,” Regina mumbled, still distracted.

“Yeah, but this one is different, you know? You usually give these to Sean. How come you’re taking such an interest in this one specifically?”

Regina sat back and regarded her over the rim of her glasses for a long moment before pulling them from her face and dropping them on the table with a sigh. 

“I’m sorry. I know I’m prying into your--”

“When I was a child,” Regina began, ignoring Emma’s backpedaling, “my parents were quite wealthy. We had the finest of everything which was of the utmost importance to my mother. She was always supremely concerned with her perceived station in life. What would people think? Her constant mantra was woven in our daily lives like the fine threads of our foreign-made bedding.” Regina rolled her eyes and continued as Emma sat raptly attentive.

“My father was a warm man who had a heart of gold but unfortunately, when it came to managing the fortune he had been left by his own parents, he was not adept. My mother knew of the financial situation we were in by the time I was about twelve years old, but her opulent spending couldn’t be tamed and my father did nothing to curb her habits either. For a long time, we seemed to exist in this place where we lived on borrowed time and money. My mother spent what we didn’t have; my father would admonish the spending but then eventually cave and give in to her wishes. He truly only wanted her to be happy and for my mother...happiness equalled “things”.”

Emma nodded but kept silent, encouraging her to continue. “Anyway, long story short, my father fell ill due to a long ignored medical issue most likely exacerbated by the stress he was under and passed away when I was thirteen.” Regina waved away Emma’s attempt at a condolence. “It was a long time ago.” 

“Needless to say, between the lavish funeral expenses and my mother’s “grief stricken retail therapy” we were soon dodging creditors like bullets. Within a year of my father’s death, we were homeless. I thought my mother would die before ever seeking help from a shelter, but as it turned out, the only thing more embarrassing than asking for help from strangers was asking help from people who actually knew us. So, she packed us up, pulled me away from everyone I knew, not that we could have afforded the tuition for the private school anymore, and moved us five states away into a shelter. Everything we owned was sold to pay the debts except for my mother’s best things and enough clothing to keep me clean for a week at a time.”

Emma’s eyes had widened to saucers. Regina Mills had been homeless? “We stayed for nine months while my mother worked tirelessly to find a man to support us.” Regina scoffed at her own comment. “You’d think a job would have been a priority but minimum wage wasn’t exactly on her list of acceptable lifestyles. I suppose I should give her credit though; I wouldn’t call it whoring exactly, but the woman knew how to work a man and a wallet with the best of them. In less than a year we were back living the life she felt she deserved, this time courtesy of Warren’s deep pockets.”

_“Regina, you will refer to him as “father” and stow this attitude at once.” Cora’s lips were set in a thin line, her fingers digging hard into her daughter’s upper arm. “Now we will go in and you will be  
_ _polite!”_

_Shoved toward the heavy double doors leading into his office, Regina managed to keep the scowl to a minimum as she raised a tight fight in preparation to knock. Three Mississippis later she did so, a muffled deep voice encouraging her to enter. Knob turned, she shuffled inside a few steps before Cora’s claw-like grasp on her arm returned to her arm, forcing her to the center of the room. The scent of pine and cigarette smoke tickled her nose, making her long for the sweet pipe smoke that had always clung to her real father’s jackets._

_“Something I can do for you, ladies?” Warren had barely glanced up from his desk._

_That booming voice caused her to tremble, hands thrust into the side pockets of slacks much too expensive for her to play outdoors in. At least that was what her mother had told her upon giving her the cream colored dress pants. She loathed them. In fact, she loathed everything within her wardrobe, nostalgic for the jeans and casual shirts she had been allowed to wear during their stay at the shelter._

_Cora’s fingers tightened further, prodding Regina to respond. “Um, I just wanted to um, thank you, for the gift...father.” The last word of her sentence so small it was almost swallowed up by the thick carpeting on the floor._

_“Mmm. I’m glad you liked it.” He hardly even glanced in their direction as Regina rolled her eyes. She hadn’t said she_ liked _it._

_Be polite, Mother said. How was she to make nice with someone who seemed so disinterested, so aloof? She supposed overall the man was nice enough, yet possessed the personality of a damp washcloth. How her mother managed to obtain his attention, keep it, and get him to ask if they would move in with him she would never know._

_“Warren dear, you really are much too generous with the girl.” Cora singsonged the admonishment, dropping Regina’s arm and moving toward the desk. Lovely. Now her mother couldn’t even bring herself to say her name? It was bad enough her father’s name had been erased from their lives almost completely, now she was being reduced to “the girl”?_

_“I do wish you’d pull yourself away from your work today, my love.” Cora skated a finger across his shoulders with a pout in her voice that made Regina’s eyes roll so hard she almost swore she spotted her own brain. “We miss you terribly when you shut yourself in here for hours.”_

_Regina couldn’t take the scene in front of her without an unpleasant turn in her stomach. She’d seen it almost every weekend since they had moved in. Warren would be holed up in his office for the entirety of the day, Cora would feign interest to make him feel good and he would placate her with a suggested outing to the shops or some other distraction that invariably involved his credit card. Ugh. It was nauseating and the perfect example of the type of relationship Regina swore she would never engage in._

_“Regina!” Cora’s biting tone cut through her thoughts. “I said you are dismissed. You may go play until dinnertime.” Regina turned quickly on her heels and retreated back toward the door without question. “And don’t get your slacks dirty!”_

“Doesn’t sound like much of a relationship.” Emma broke Regina’s long pause with a quiet comment. She had no idea the kind of childhood Regina had endured. It went to show that privilege and money weren’t always all they were cracked up to be.

“It wasn’t. Well, unless you count the one between my mother and money. That one, has been a solid love affair for years.” Regina shook her head curtly, as though doing so would clear uncomfortable memories from her brain. If only it were that easy--like one of those Etch A Sketch toys. If possible she would shake every single memory of her mother away and maybe, just maybe all the rest of her bad memories with them. No. God no, she couldn’t do that. Regardless of how painful some of those memories were, for better or worse she many of them had involved...

“What’s in your head?” 

Following a quick session of rapid blinking Regina focused on the woman seated to her left. “My brain.” 

Emma smirked while resisting the urge to pick up the nearby legal pad to smack her with. “Allow me to rephrase the question.”

“Go ahead, counselor.” 

“What were you just thinking about?”

Engaged in an impromptu staring contest it was on the tip of Regina’s tongue to claim she had been thinking about dinner. Shouldn’t they order something to eat? It was her treat. However, that brain she had just mentioned possessing had other ideas. The traitorous organ elected to tell the truth. “My bitch of a mother and...the love of my life who was lost much too soon.” 

_Oh damn._ Not that it had been jolly before but this conversation had just taken an abrupt turn onto Awkward Avenue prompting Emma to search for a place to make a U-turn. A pen grabbed she repeatedly clicked it while continuing to search as her boss opened an email on her tablet. Just as she slid her glasses back onto her face Emma cleared her throat, immediately regaining Regina’s attention, one dark brow cocked. 

“Tell me a funny story involving her...Jessica.” Emma added, to be clear that she didn’t mean Regina’s mother. Chances were there were few if any humorous anecdotes regarding that woman. 

“Funny?”

“I don’t mean like slap my knee, tears rolling down my face funny. Just...humorous.” At first she thought based on her expression Regina would decline, but with a blink the hesitance disappeared and she nodded, the faintest smile tugging at her lips for a moment. 

“My stepfather smoked cigarettes and I hated it.” Catching the other woman’s curious gaze Regina chuckled. “Just providing you with some background information, be patient.” Glasses once again removed, she used the end of her blouse to polish already spotless lenses. “The smell permeated not only his office but most of the house. I’d return home and it would just slap me in the face. God forbid I should get the tiniest mark on my outfit or scuff on my shoe, but the nicotine scent was just fine with my mother as long as she kept constant access to Warren’s checkbook and credit cards.

“Anyway,” Regina shook her head while continuing to polish her glasses, “the smell was worst in his office. Every time I was forced to be in there, I found myself close to choking on the nauseating odor, but also nearly suffocated with the memories of my father. He was also a smoker, but his preferred method was a pipe. Of course no form of smoking is good for you, but there was something about the smell of the smoke from his, the way he looked so dignified seated behind his desk or favorite recliner with his pipe. I found father’s pipe smoking almost...comforting.” Another smile caused her lips to curve. 

“Sometimes I swear I can still catch a whiff of it. His favorite, although I sometimes wondered if it was because it was mine as well, was a cherry vanilla blend he would special order from Bavaria and his pipe was this gorgeous handcrafted burgundy stained briar wood. It had belonged to his grandfather and was in excellent condition. 

“Shortly after he died, Cora sold it though, despite my asking if I could keep it.” Having begun to squeeze her glasses as anger swept through her Regina thought it best to place them upon the table before she continued. “It would have been one thing if she used the money to pay bills, but instead she bought a purse with the proceeds of something that was very special to me.” Sighing, Regina waved her hands about, mumbling an apology for taking so long. 

“No worries.” A hand reaching out, its destination Regina’s knee, at the last second it detoured toward the table where it picked up a mug of coffee. A sip taken, Emma almost cringed at how much it had cooled off. “I appreciate the backstory.” In truth she had grown to appreciate any words coming from Regina’s mouth. She just enjoyed sitting and listening to her speak, especially when she opened up such as tonight. “Take your time.” _No place else I’d rather be._

Grabbing both their mugs, Regina stood up and walked across the room to refresh the beverages while skipping ahead to the Jessica part of the story. She had seemed distracted the better part of two weeks. Usually not one to bring her work home, lately she spent an abundance of time on her phone and laptop. Regina told herself it didn’t mean anything, yet paranoia began to get the better of her, especially when one evening she asked Jessica who she was texting with such eagerness and she muttered something about it being private. 

"The hell did _that_ mean, I asked her.” Steaming mugs placed on their respective coasters, Regina reclaimed her seat. “It’s never been easy for me to trust people, but I had never questioned my faith in her until then. This was the first time during our relationship it wavered. Then as I started to press further, she simply collected her purse and jacket and without looking at me stated she would be back in a little while. I didn’t ask where she was headed. For one,” Regina held up a pointer finger, “I didn’t expect her to answer--at least truthfully, and two,” she added the middle finger, “I had already decided to play the suspicious spouse by following her.”

“I hated that. Hated that after all those years of wholeheartedly believing in her within the span of a couple weeks that trust had begun to crumble. Wanted to punch her when half an hour later I tailed her to a cafe. Was she screwing some hot little waitress? Was she meeting her mistress there before they checked into a hotel or went back to her place? 

“I gave her a couple minutes worth of a head start then burst through the double glass doors like a SWAT team member, searching the busy cafe until I found her at a booth near the back, someone seated across from her. Storming up to the table like an absolute crazy person, it never even registered that her diner company was a man. A bald, wrinkled, definitely not dating material little man who could’ve been Jessica’s grandfather. A liver spot covered hand slid a paper bag over to her and she distractedly slid him back a wad of money, her eyes widening to saucers as I practically knocked someone over with a slew of profanities on my lips.” With a soft chuckle and eye roll at herself, Regina picked up her mug and blew along its surface before looking toward Emma. “Care to guess what was inside the paper bag?”

It took Emma all of two seconds to respond. “Your dad’s pipe? Miraculously after all those years she somehow tracked it down?”

“That would have been amazing, but no.” She carefully took a sip, Emma following suit. “However, after much online searching she did manage to find a pipe striking similar to his. That little man charged her far too much, but luckily, after she had ceased being so pissed with my childish act of jealousy, she told me I was worth every exorbitant cent.” Another chuckle sprang from her lips. “It wasn’t really funny then, but once she cooled down we had a good laugh.”

Emma smiled. “She sounds incredible.” 

“She was,” Regina replied in a soft tone. Asked if she still had the pipe she nodded. “Keep it on my desk at home. It It reminds me of both of them now. Anyway,” she indicated the paperwork spread out in front of them, “we should get back to work.” Stomach choosing that moment to growl she glanced toward her tablet for the time. “Maybe we should make this a working dinner. What sounds good to you?”

“I don’t know.” Emma sounded distracted as she stood. “Why don’t you order us something to be delivered? Surprise me.” Making an announcement made that she had to use the bathroom she hurried from the office.

Less than a minute later she paced the women’s restroom while wringing her hands together. She was on the cusp of dropping the ball today as it was almost six thirty in the evening and listening to the story about tracking down the perfect gift for Regina was a glaring reminder Emma didn’t have Day nine’s present planned. 

Nine ladies dancing. What could she do? A lap dance was out of the question unless she tried sending the woman to a strip club; somehow idea of some scantily dressed woman gyrating upon Regina did not appeal to her. It was too late to actually organize nine women to perform a dance for her. Emma continued pacing until she came to a halt so quickly the bottom of her shoes actually squeaked upon the polished floor. That was it. She had it. Well...she _would_ have it if Regina played along. 

Relieved she had brought her cell phone with her, she went into a stall, sat down and got to work, unaware of the mischievous grin forming. 

*********

Boxes of Chinese food spread out amongst the paperwork, Emma paid rapt attention to her boss despite trying to capture a piece of Kung Pao chicken between chopsticks. Finally popping the spicy meat into her mouth she chewed then opened her mouth to answer a question when Regina’s phone buzzed with a notification, causing her to wait. 

Unaware of Emma’s intense gaze, Regina quickly checked her phone screen. “Unknown Number”. Her brow knit in annoyance. Junk texts? Regina was immaculate in keeping her phone number off the grid so to speak. Almost no one outside of work and immediate family had this number and she liked it that way. She was a charter member of the “do not call” list.

Not bothering to even open the message as there was no way it wasn’t just some robocaller who had struck lucky on her number, she swiped her index finger across the notification on her lock screen and pressed delete. 

_Are you…? Did she just...?_ Emma tried to swallow her frustration by shoving another piece of Kung Pao in her mouth. This woman. She could never make it easy. Snatching up her phone from the table she visibly opened her email app before sitting back in her chair to hide the fact that she switched over to the incognito texting app she had downloaded in the bathroom. Resetting the previous message with a new delay on the send feature, she returned her phone to the table. _Now we wait...again._

Emma busied herself between the site clearance requirements and the array of Chinese food cartons in front of them attempting to stay breezy and casual all the while staring at her wrist incessantly waiting for twelve minutes to tick by.

“Unknown Number”. Regina’s annoyance was audible this time. With another grumble and huff she once again swiped her finger on the screen to delete the message. This time, however, Emma was ready for it. No sooner had Regina dropped the phone back onto the desk that it buzzed again. “Unknown Number”. 

“What on earth?” Regina grabbed the phone and stared at the notification as if it would suddenly tell her more.

“Everything alright?” Emma asked, attempting to keep the smirk from her voice.

“Some nuisance caller seems to have gotten my number. This line is private and I don’t understand…”

“Oh man, I hate those. Oh my gosh, funny story. One time my friend was getting those messages all day and she kept ignoring them and it turned out it was the lottery commission trying to get in touch with her. She had won twenty thousand dollars!” _That’s believable right? Yeah...sure._

Regina regarded Emma like she possessed the walnut-sized brain of a Jurassic era lizard. “One would have to play the lottery in order to win it, Emma. I do not waste my money on such frivolities.” Despite her disdainful comment toward the state lottery commission and those that fed the system, Regina’s thumb did swipe the opposite way this time and she opened the message.

“So...did you win?” Emma asked after a long silence in which Regina stared at her phone.

“What?” She muttered distractedly back. “Oh. No…”

“Just a junk text then?”

“What?” Emma tried to hide her smile at the way Regina’s eyes obviously flicked over the message again. “Oh. Yes...just junk.” Regina clicked the screen to black and shoved the phone in her pocket this time. 

“Oh well...can’t win ‘em all.” Emma shrugged and began to shuffle the papers on the desk, taking a long sip of coffee to hide the grin on her face at Regina’s next statement. 

“You know it really is getting late.” No it wasn’t, not compared to how late they’d been staying recently. “I hate to keep you with the holidays so close. You must be as busy as the next person. Why don’t we head out for the evening? This will all be here tomorrow.”

 _Thank you!_ Emma internally cheered for Regina doing exactly what she had hoped she would. “Oh, I don’t mind staying later. But listen, you should go. I’m going to wait for the numbers to come back from Jack. He promised to fax them over after the planning board meeting and that ends in about...an hour.”

“Oh...right. The numbers. I can wait…” Regina looked anything but happy about the offer.

“Don’t be silly. You must have a ton of planning to do for the party on Friday. Most of my shopping is done anyway, thanks to my friend Amazon and free prime shipping. I’ll just hang here till they come in, finish off these soybean things you insisted I’d like if I ever allowed a vegetable passed my lips, and then head out later.” Emma grinned at Regina’s eye roll.

“Okay then. If you’re sure you don’t mind.” Emma waved her hand and made a shooing motion toward the door. “Thank you. Really…” Regina moved to her desk and shifted through some papers before placing her laptop in her briefcase and heading for the door with a final wave. “Don’t stay too late.” Emma returned her a wave with one chopstick as she picked through the carton in her hand over a mouthful of chicken.

 _Well, that solves the “is it Emma” dilemma._ Regina failed to smile at her own rhyme as she stepped into the elevator. Sliding her phone from her pocket she unlocked it and opened her message app once again. 

**Meet me at the pond,  
** **The one where people ice skate.  
** **You’ll have to trust me for this one,  
** **It’s going to be a blind date.**

 **You have twenty minutes.  
** **And don’t try texting or calling  
** **this number back. It won’t work. ;-)**


	10. Chapter 10

Puffs of visible air floating away from her mouth, Regina folded her arms against her body in an effort to retain warmth while she searched the busy park. The cart thirty feet to her left looked inviting as the man operating it filled one cup after another with cocoa, but pouring a warm beverage down her throat would have to wait. She had an idiotic poet to search for. 

Though she hadn’t a clue _who_ to look for. There were people everywhere. Couples and kids bustling about with rosy cheeks and noses to match her own. For all she knew the woman bundled on a bench with a cup of cocoa nestled between her thighs while gloved thumbs flew across a phone screen could have been her. Maybe that woman with a cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth as she struggled into a pair of ice skates was her. Or perhaps the red nosed, watery eyed chick busy wiping her nose on the sleeve of her jacket was her. Regina’s nose scrunched. Oh good Lord, please no. 

Phone removed from her pocket she noted the time. She had been given twenty minutes and had two more to spare. Perhaps she should move closer to the pond. Beginning to walk, snow crunching under booted feet Regina groaned, hoping the idiot didn’t plan on taking her out on that frozen surface.

A blind date. Hm, was she finally ready to reveal herself? Telling herself she wasn’t nervous and also that she wasn’t the slightest bit disappointed that her secret admirer hadn’t actually turned out to be Emma, Regina decided to occupy a bench in close proximity to the rink where what had to be a couple of hundred people frolicked along with festive music played through multiple speakers. 

This was ridiculous. She rubbed her hands together trying to create some warming friction. She hadn’t dressed for sitting out in the cold this morning and found herself wishing for a pair of warm gloves.That was it. She would give her idiot gift giver/mystery texter five more min—

Regina jumped in her seat, startled at the distinct feeling of two hands squeezing her shoulders. “Don’t turn around.” Warm breath tickled her ear and in any other circumstance the low husky whisper against her skin would have caused her to do exactly that coupled with a stiff uppercut to whomever's nose those words belonged to. As it was, she froze and waited, searching her mind to place the voice but unable to discern its owner due to the whisper and the din of the surrounding music and crowd.

“Do you trust me?”

Regina thought for a beat. “No.”

A low chuckle in her ear sent a shiver having little to do with the frigid air down her back. “Hm. Walk away then?” the voice inquired, fingers loosening their grip slightly.

“No.” This time Regina didn’t hesitate.

“Quite the quandary you have then, Ms. Mills.” Damn it; why couldn’t she place this voice. “You don’t trust me but you don’t want to leave.”

“I...I trust you.” Regina couldn’t believe the words coming from her own mouth. It was taking every fiber of her concentration not to turn around and reveal the identity of the mystery woman behind her. 

As if reading her mind and wishing to offer assistance in some way to quell her need to satisfy her curiosity, the hands on her shoulders suddenly slipped forward revealing a length of red silk in one of them. Slowly, as if they were approaching a cornered animal, those hands pulled the silken fabric tight between them and then lifted them to Regina’s eyes. When she took a deep breath and held it but didn’t move, those hands were encouraged once again to complete their task and tied the silk behind her head in a firm but not too tight knot.

Emma couldn’t believe she had gotten this far. She checked her watch. She had about forty seconds to go if the maintenance guy she had slipped a crisp fifty to was going to be good on his word. Coming around the side of the bench she waved her fingers in front of the blindfolded woman and looked for a reaction. Receiving none, Emma took a deep breath of her own and placed her hands into Regina’s and tugged her upward to stand. Taking yet another huge breath just as the music in the rink suddenly changed to the slow sultry sounds of Boyz II Men singing _Let It Snow_ , she wrapped an arm around Regina’s waist, pulled her in close and began to sway to the music. 

It took Regina a minute to respond to what was happening but after a beat she allowed her mystery idiot to lead and let herself get lost in the moment. She couldn’t remember the last time she had danced. She pushed away the thought of people staring at the two of them wondering what was with the blindfold and told herself she doubted anyone was even bothering to glance at them. She let her hand rest on Emma’s back and laid her cheek on her shoulder, the cool leather of her jacket filling her senses with the smell of comfort and warmth. 

Emma pressed her cheek to Regina’s and whispered softly in her ear again. “It’s not exactly _nine_ ladies dancing, I know. But to be honest, there’s really only _one_ woman I’m interested in anyway.” Regina smiled softly and shook her head. She couldn’t believe she was actually going along with this but there was something about the way she fit against this woman, something about the confident way she held her without making her feel trapped; it made her want the moment to last longer and she hoped this would be the moment she would reveal who she was.

Of course, Emma had no intention of ruining her game with a reveal tonight. That would have to wait for Friday. Despite the butterflies dancing in her stomach, despite the warmth that had spread through her entire body, despite the perfect way Regina pressed herself into her trusting Emma to support some of her weight, she had to have patience. 

As the song began it’s final chorus, Emma pulled herself out of the moment and started to plan her escape. She had to do this just right. Regina had trusted her this far, but if she knew her at all, there was no way she’d let her just walk away. The final chord fading away, Emma stilled and loosened her grip on the woman in front of her. Hands releasing their previous grips she slid them up Regina’s shoulders and cupped her face gently. _Here goes nothing._

Regina stood almost spellbound as warm hands enveloped her face. For a moment she thought the blindfold was going to be removed as two thumbs gently brushed her cheeks but then...the softest tingle on her lips as her bold little idiot grazed her own across Regina’s then suddenly with no warning from her own brain Regina surged forward seeking more almost breaking and laughing at the muffled “mmphf” she received back before those warm lips responded and melted against her own. The kiss lingered for a long moment without deepening, neither woman ready for more but also not ready to part; finally, it was Emma who broke the spell with a chuckle. 

“Just as I suspected,” she started, keeping her voice whisper soft, a thumb stroking a path along her cheek to her bottom lip, tracing along the slight curve it had taken on, “these lips; so soft and sweet.” Emma shifted closer yearning to kiss her again yet somehow managing to resist. “I wonder if the rest of you is the same.” 

Regina smirked while doing her best to ignore the pleasurable tingle that voice, those words and the thumb playing with her mouth had ignited. “As much as I’m enjoying the Christmas rendition of _Fifty Shades of Grey,_ I’m going to need you to remove this blindfold and let me see you.” 

A smile smothered although the other woman couldn’t see it, Emma replaced it with the clucking of her tongue. “There’s a difference between need and want, Ms. Mills. I’m sure you _want_ many things, as do I, but I’m going to _need_ to disappoint you.” The second Regina was about to protest she firmly pressed two fingers to her mouth, effectively stifling her response. “Patience is a virtue. Now listen carefully. I want you to count to ten. Not rapidly, but count one alligator, two alligator so on and so forth.” Regina smirked at the elementary school nature of her task. “When, and _only_ when you have reached ten may you remove the silk.” Once more she allowed her thumb to travel along that inviting mouth before dropping her hand and taking a step backward. “Begin.” 

“But--”

“No buts. Count _now_.” The smile successfully erupted when her boss groaned. However, Emma was delighted and relieved the moment she began to count, including an alligator between each number. Taking one last look at her as though she might never set eyes on her again, Emma turned and bolted, the crowd and lack of sunlight making it so simple to disappear. 

Not like this was a hostage situation, but Regina didn’t touch the blindfold until the minute her tenth alligator passed her lips. Reaching up, she hastened to undo the knot, pulling the silken material away once successful. Blinking rapidly, she searched the crowd although she knew it was futile. The idiot had made her great escape although deep down she swore she could still feel her body pressed against hers. Sighing, she glanced around, eyes landing on the cocoa cart. Well, might as well end the night with two sweet things, she decided. Glancing toward the blindfold in her hand, she carefully folded and tucked into her pocket before heading toward the cart. 

*********

Licking a bit of sweet cream from her upper lip, Regina took another sip, disappointed that the cup was almost empty as it had been some of the best cocoa she ever had. If the idiot had stuck around and revealed herself perhaps Regina would have treated her to a cup. But no, she had to continue playing this ridiculous game. Day nine. Shit, did she have three more days of this to ‘look forward’ to? On some level, was she actually excited by that? No. Yes. Regina frowned then downed the remainder of her beverage, tossing the cup into a trash bin on the sidewalk. How could she be so enthralled by someone she had never met? 

Halting at the curb she pressed the button and waited to be allowed advancement across the street. Two more blocks and she would be home where she could slip into a hot bubble bath. Eyes wandering down to her coat, her brow knit upon spotting a strand of hair on the front of her jacket that most definitely wasn’t her own. Plucking the thin fiber, she held it between her fingers for inspection. Golden. Blonde. A particular blonde she had left at the office over an hour ago popped into her brain. Regina had already decided it couldn’t be her, but…

Alerted to cross the street, she did so flanked by a few others while she pulled her cell phone out and opened the message app. Emma’s name selected, Regina waited until she was on the sidewalk before typing a message. 

_Hey, how is it going?_

Emma must have been holding her phone as almost immediately Regina spotted those three little dots. She had taken maybe twenty steps by the time Emma responded with a photograph of the plans along with the message _‘Just about to text you. The numbers came in! Heading home in a few.’_

Not realizing she had ceased walking, Regina stared at the message and the photo. Of course, she was still at work. She hadn’t been at the park near the pond dancing in her arms, whispering in her ear. Regina shook her head at herself. Emma Swan could behave like an idiot for sure, but clearly she wasn’t _her_ idiot. She needed to accept that. She nodded, continuing to walk. She _had_ accepted it and really it didn’t make a difference because she wasn’t interested in Emma anyway. Not now, not ever. 

She repeatedly reminded herself of that during the remainder of her journey home. 

*********

To say Emma had tossed and turned all night would indicate that she had been uncomfortable in some way. No. The smile cemented on her lips certainly did not indicate discomfort. Emma was in bliss and her brain failed to let her sleep because if she did, the feeling of euphoria might fade. The smell of Regina’s perfume in her nose, the taste of Regina’s lips on her own, the perfect weight of her body in her arms, all these things would become just a memory if she fell asleep; if today became yesterday.

So, instead of closing her eyes, her mind occupied itself with planning the next day’s gift. Ten Lords-a-leaping. Images of jump roping Jesus’s danced through her head letting her know she was losing her mind as the clock ticked over to 4:00A.M. No, that wouldn’t work. These gifts had started out so easy but now relating the gifts to the lyrics of the song was getting really difficult. Lords-a-leaping? Why couldn’t the lyricist have just made it ten donuts dunking or something?

 _Alright. Lords. Leaping Lords. Lord of the flies. Fly paper. Paperback. A book!_ Emma rolled her eyes at herself. What did a book have to do with Lords-a-leaping? Although, she mulled, it could be a book about a lord. _Oh yeah, give her a bible. I’m sure that’s on the New York Times best seller’s list this week._ A second eye roll was produced. _Okay, think. That’s not the only book with a lord in it._ “Lord of the Flies” passed through her mind again but there was something about a book that involved children hunting each other down in the jungle for sport that didn’t quite scream Christmas spirit to Emma.

Maybe she was taking this too literally. She had to think outside the box. What did she know about Regina? Something that wasn’t too obviously from Emma; something that could be true about anyone but also would fit her perfectly? Hot chocolate! Emma had stood far away in the crowded park and watched as Regina had wandered over to the hot cocoa cart after their dance. Standing behind a tree spying on her like a middle school crush had certainly had Emma’s heart leaping from her chest after her sprint into the crowd. Okay...so what did hot cocoa have to do with lords-a-leaping? Well...Emma was also a bit of a hot chocolate connoisseur and loved nothing more than to curl up in front of the fireplace and TV on a snowy winter night with a good movie. 

“Lord of the Rings!” Emma shouted the title of one of her favorite movies at the ceiling of her apartment with excitement. Of course! Wait...did Regina like fantasy? Emma had no idea, but the movie was a classic and if she didn’t already love it, Emma would have to fix that anyway. After all, the nine plus hours of extended cut features was a staple for her anytime she found herself home-bound due to inclement weather or illness. So Regina better learn to love it too.

Emma tried to ignore the niggling doubt that threatened to spoil her triumph over the tenth day’s gift assignment. _Did_ Regina need to learn to like the same movies as Emma? Would Regina even be mildly interested once she finally revealed herself as her mystery gifter? Emma shook her head to clear the negative thoughts. That was a worry for another day. _Yeah, Friday...three whole days away. Seventy-two measly little hours. Four thousand three hundred and twenty tiny little minutes…_

 *********

“You look like shit.” Mary Margaret regarded the blonde who leaned heavily on one hand, propped by her elbow on her desk.

“Thank you for your support.” Emma mumbled back sitting up with a deep sigh. Okay, so staying up all night was definitely a mistake. But being as she had the makings of day ten’s gift in her apartment she couldn’t very well just not prepare it before she had to go to work. It wasn’t her fault her laptop decided to take a crap and not want to copy the Lord of the Rings disc for her. She had to work a go-around and wound up uploading it to her drive first and then downloading it to another program before the disc would burn properly and between that and collecting the perfect mix of hot chocolate flavors from her cabinet and then wrapping them together in the perfect gift box, she hadn’t closed her eyes for even a second before her alarm was going off in her bedroom. 

Settled into the nearby chair with an impish grin spreading upon her lips and mischief dancing in her eyes, Mary Margaret scanned her friend and coworker’s length several times. Emma was so fatigued she didn’t even notice the thorough observation. 

“Long night?” 

Eyes winning the battle to shut a blonde head bobbed. “Mmmhm.”

“I see.” A pen selected from the jar upon her desk Mary Margaret began twirling it. “Busy girl?” Another bob without the accompaniment of a grunted confirmation. “Was someone _with_ you? Someone... _special_? Someone who works in this office with us and more specifically seems to _love_ spending time with you?” 

Emma regarded her through one cracked eye. “Nosy much?”

Mary Margaret immediately nodded. “Yep.” 

Emma would have rolled her eyes but considering the office had begun to spin a bit she thought that not the wisest thing to do. Obviously not noticing her discomfort, Mary Margaret continued to pry. How things were progressing with Regina. Did she have a clue who her secret admirer was? Had they grown closer during their nights working together? 

It was as though Mary Margaret stood at the opposite end of a very long tunnel while Emma strained to hear her, arms wrapping tightly around a churning stomach, a peculiar sensation climbing her throat, the tunnel began to spin like the teacup ride at an amusement park. 

_Shit._ Throughout working on her project somewhere in the back of her mind it occurred to Emma that she felt...off. Yet she shoved the feeling aside much too focused on putting Regina’s latest gift together. However, that feeling now refused to be ignored. 

Mary Margaret’s lips moved, worry stretched across her adorable features as she clutched her friend’s arm. Emma thought she heard her ask if she was okay. No, she didn’t think she was, yet there wasn’t enough time to explain. 

Chair pushed away from the desk, Emma stood up, one hand upon her stomach, the other slapped against her mouth as she raced through the office relieved there was little traffic in her path. Regina. There she came, a small white fragrant bag in one hand, her briefcase in the other, a good morning smile forming on her lips until she noticed Emma’s face. She spoke yet Emma ignored her, seconds later shoving through the restroom door. 

Emma had never been much into fashion. Never paid it much attention yet she recognized the two pair of shoes stood outside her stall. Of course the voices murmuring in concern could have had something to do with it as well. 

Feeling like a survivor after the Titanic met its demise, she clutched the toilet like she expected it to keep her afloat. Cheek pressed to its seat Emma couldn’t bring herself to care about the thousands of ass hours that seat had been privy to. This toilet was her lifeline. She desperately needed it. 

Oh God she felt like crap. Earlier she thought that crap was wholly due to not achieving any sleep but this was definitely more. Somehow, someway, she had caught a stomach bug. She didn’t have time for this. Right before Christmas but more importantly just a few days away from the reveal. Day ten’s present was neatly wrapped under her desk and she clung to a toilet like it was her lover. This was not good. 

A knock drew her attention toward the locked door. “Mmph?” Emma weakly grunted. Exhausted green eyes shifted downward when both women lowered to their hands and knees, two dark heads appearing at the space between the bottom of the door and the floor. She might have laughed if she didn’t feel like absolute shit. 

“You okay in there?” Mary Margaret asked. When her friend merely stared she shook her head. “Of course you’re not. Something you ate?”

If it was possible to die of embarrassment, Emma would have achieved it at that very moment. This wasn’t exactly her dream moment of getting Regina on her hands and knees with her. _Kill me, now..._

Another uncomfortable wave of nausea rolled through her but she managed to fight off the urge to throw her head into the bowl again. “Dunno. Don’t think so.” Her eyes shut as they spoke amongst themselves.

“I will have Taylor call my car service and take her home at once.”

Mary Margaret, trying to save Emma the embarrassment of possibly spewing in front of Regina, argued back politely. “Oh, Ms. Mills, you don’t have to do that. I can walk her home and make sure she’s okay.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. My car service will be here to collect her in a few moments. I will not have the two of you walking home in this weather or I’ll shortly have _two_ employees down with illness.” 

_The two of us? Sure._ Mary Margaret swallowed a smirk at Regina’s sudden concern for their well-being. Wasn’t it just a few days ago she was ordering someone with the flu out into the cold for a trivial cup of coffee?

“Besides,” Regina continued, “she’s in no condition to walk eight blocks in the snow.”

Emma’s brow shot up at that one, despite her head staying firmly planted on the porcelain ring. She knew where Emma lived? That was… well of course she did. She had all her employees addresses on file didn’t she? Yeah, but did she know exactly how many blocks away each of those addresses was? Off the top of her head? _It’s the city. It’s not rocket science to figure out on the fly._ Emma involuntarily groaned again as her thoughts flip-flopped with her stomach. 

M2 was still trying to rescue her, bless her heart. “Oh, we can take a cab, it’s fine. We wouldn’t want to inconvenience you…” Emma’s groaning interrupted her debate.

“Ms. Blanchard. The matter is closed.” Regina refused to relent; not used to arguing with employees, she was becoming irritated at Mary Margaret’s persistence. “Now, I’m sure you have some of your own work to attend to as you’ve spent most of the morning in here fretting over Miss Swan’s stomach ache.”

“I…” Mary Margaret blinked rapidly at Regina’s sudden shift back into “boss-mode”. “Yes, ma’am, I just didn’t want to…”

“If I felt it an inconvenience, I would not be doing it.” Regina ended the conversation by holding the bathroom door open for her. “Please tell Taylor to make the arrangements and I expect the Cortland Casino proposal on my desk by four o’clock, Miss Blanchard.”

Mary Margaret slowly slinked out of the room, tossing a final pitying glance at the stall behind her before Regina turned and released the heavy wooden door with a nod. She approached the stall once again, her tone shifting back to concern as she knocked lightly.

“Emma? Unlock the door for me, please. I’m going to help you downstairs. My car service will bring you home.”

Emma dragged her head up off her arm and fumbled for the latch on the door, releasing it with a snap. Regina gently pushed the door open and frowned at the sight before her. Emma’s usually neat blonde hair, now pulled back in a messy ponytail, her skin a sickly shade of too-pale white now. Crouching down in her Manolo Blahnik’s, no small feat on the tiled floor, Regina slid her arm under Emma’s shoulder. 

“We’re going to attempt to stand up now. You think you can make it?”

Emma nodded weakly, and put her weight on Regina who proved surprisingly strong as she lifted her off the floor with no more than a small grunt. Emma wobbled slightly as they stood, Regina letting the room stop spinning before she began to move them toward the door. Once downstairs, Regina ignoring and Emma barely aware of the staring eyes as the CEO and owner of one of the top architectural firms in the city practically carried an employee to the elevator, they made their way downstairs to the waiting and warm sleek, black town car.

“Thank you, Graham.” Regina gave a nod to her driver as he opened the rear passenger door for them. Regina helped Emma into the car and closed the door with a sharp thud behind her. _Thank the gods._ Emma was free to groan again as she had been holding in her discomfort desperately for the last few min… Suddenly the driver side rear door opened and much to Emma’s shock, Regina slid in next to her. Wait...she was going _with_ her? Holy hell.

Emma did her best to hold it together on the excruciatingly painful ride to her place. It was hard to tell what was causing her more discomfort at this point: the rolling in her stomach, the pounding in her head, or the absolute panic that was setting in. 

Was she going to try to come in with her? Shit. Of course she was. Why else would she be coming along? Certainly not to just drop her at the curb and go. Was she going to try to stay? No. There was no way. Oh my God. What if she tried to stay? Her place was a mess. Fuck! There was wrapping paper and bows all over the kitchen table! Emma moaned again and thankfully Regina just gave her a sympathetic look assuming it was the illness. 

Why is every damn light red? This isn’t how she wanted Regina to see her place for the first time. Her stomach rolled again. This wasn’t how she imagined Regina would run her hands through her hair for the first time, holding it back while she puked. Emma begged the gods for a work emergency to pull Regina back to the office, but it was futile. She moaned again as the damned woman pulled her phone out of her pocket and turned it to silent mode. No distractions or interruptions. Emma wondered if she took a leap out of the moving car door could she convince Greg or Graham or whoever was driving this doom-mobile to detour to the hospital instead. Leap. Fuck! Lord-a-leaping! 

Regina’s tenth gift sat under her desk at work and now there was no way for it to be delivered on time. Would Regina figure it out? Emma wanted to die. Of course she would. One person goes home sick and the gift isn’t delivered? Wasn’t going to take a team of detectives to figure this out now, was it? Emma wanted to cry _and_ puke now.

The car pulled up in front of Emma’s building and she was ready; had a whole quick and breezy speech ready to go. The wheels stopped turning, she placed her hand on the door handle and popped the latch. “I really can’t thank you enough for giving me a ride, Regina. I’ll just see you tomorr--” And she was talking to the woman’s back as she exited the car and came around to Emma’s side.

By the time her boss held the door open for her, indicating for her to exit, Emma was certain she had just internally repeated the word fuck a couple dozen times. She suddenly didn’t want to leave that car. She didn’t want to go upstairs to her apartment because it meant Regina would tag along based on the determination written across her face. A tiny sigh emitted she instructed herself to calm down. She could get out of this. She could convince Regina to slip back into that car and return to work? How? Oh, she hadn’t quite figured that out yet but what was that idiom? Where there’s a will there’s a way and Emma definitely had a strong will to make Regina go the hell away. 

Doing her best to ignore the intensifying roil, Emma emerged from the car slower than intended. A seventy year old woman who just had hip replacement surgery probably could have beat her pace. A hand upon her stomach, she tried to casually lean against the car while regarding Regina who seemed to study her every move with a critical, concerned eye. 

“Listen, Regina, I have it from here.” Reddened lips parting to deliver what Emma assumed would be a protest she talked faster. “Really, you’re much more needed at work than you are here.” Although using the car as a brace was somewhat comforting Emma pushed away from it, straightening to her full height even as a horrid sensation tickled her throat. Fuck again. “I’m fine.” Even to her own ears she was aware she didn’t sound fine and though she didn’t have a mirror handy Emma was certain she didn’t look so fine either. 

A dark head shook, determination strengthening. “Miss Swan, at the very least, I’m going to help you upstairs and make sure you’re comfortable.”

“But I really--”

Her employee’s weak argument ignored, heels clicked upon the pavement leading Regina to the passenger side of the car, Graham pressing a button to roll down the window. Looking into the vehicle Regina issued a polite smile. “Thank you, Graham. You’re free to go. I’ll call when I’m ready to be picked up.” 

Mouth tasting sour, Emma swallowed with some difficulty. Oh God. She had to get upstairs as her stomach felt like a time bomb with less than a minute left to total destruction. Nudging Regina out the way she leaned upon the open window and attempted to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “No, no, Graham. Please takes Ms. Mills with you as I won’t be requiring her--”

And that was that. The decision to bend over proved to be the wrong one, as her severely queasy stomach made the sudden decision to empty some of its contents on both the sidewalk and the driver side door, much to Graham’s obvious horror. While he gagged a gentle hand patted her lower back. 

“What don’t you require, dear?” 

*****

A seemingly obedient blonde left sprawled on the couch, Regina stood in her bathroom rifling through the medicine cabinet for something that might settle her stomach. Although Graham had originally been dismissed once Emma decorated his car Regina presented the man with another task ignoring the look upon his face that clearly stated he just wanted to get the hell away from them never to return. While Emma felt so weak she had to sit on the frigid curb, Regina hurried to give Graham a shopping list, which included such items as tea, Pepto Bismol and ginger ale. 

Flintstones vitamins. A brow lifted, Regina picked up the half full bottle and gave it a shake. What the hell was she doing with those? Were adult, non-chewable vitamins too much for Emma to handle? A small chuckle leaking out, Regina returned the bottle to its place while telling herself she didn’t think it the least bit adorable despite being peculiar. No, not one little bit. 

It was a good thing she sent Graham to the store as Regina couldn’t find anything remotely helpful except for Rolaids. Her eyes rolled upon spotting the date. Expired Rolaids. Good Lord, she was a child _and_ an idiot. Clearly someone needed to take care of her. 

Sighing, Regina tossed the Rolaids, closed the medicine cabinet and returned to the living room, another crack forming in her heart when she spotted the groaning blonde curled on her side, a white knuckled grip upon the sixteen inch teddy bear tucked to her chest. “Crackers” as he was apparently called, was deemed a necessity by the groaning blonde and delivered post haste after a comical moment of confusion and another shake of Regina’s head when asked to bring Emma crackers from her bedroom. Regina hadn’t thought it wise for Emma to try food yet and why she would keep crackers in her bedroom was a mystery to her. It was only after the pulitzer prize worthy linguistic explanation of: “Crackers. Bed. Teddy.” that she caught on. Mid-thirties, accomplished architect, city regulations expert, children’s vitamin taker, teddy bear owner. _Got it_. Regina shook her head with a smile and headed for the kitchen to see if she could find the makings for some chicken soup for later. 

Staring into the almost completely barren fridge, Regina once again found herself shaking her head. This was ridiculous. A half eaten container of chinese that looked at least a week old, a quarter of a gallon of milk, some cheese and some eggs were the only things staring back at her. Alright, it was true that Regina had been monopolizing most of her evenings with work and so she hadn’t been home for dinner. Maybe, that was the reason the fridge was so bare. Opening the cupboard next to the fridge didn’t offer any better fare, however. There was no way she was going to just heat up some sodium-laden can of chicken noodle that was set to expire in ten years. Sighing again, she pulled out her phone and texted some additional items she would need to Graham.

Emma wasn’t sure what time it was when she woke up on the couch but as the world slowly came back into focus **she became things one by one**. One was soft music playing in the room. The notes on the piano were almost nondescript in its melody providing a soothing, but non distracting background noise. The next was the almost fading sunlight on the windows. It had to be almost five based on the shadows on the floor. The next was a low rumble in her stomach at the absolutely heavenly smell filling the apartment. Chicken soup...it had to be homemade because no can of Campbell’s had ever filled the whole place like this before. She considered it a good sign that the rumble felt much more like one of interest than of revulsion as she vaguely remembered more than one trip to the bathroom and back to the couch over the last eight or so hours. 

Then there was the other thing. The one that came into focus last while at the same time had been there the whole time. A light stroking along the side of her head, fingers in her hair, almost absentmindedly combing through it. Emma slowly opened her eyes, careful not to move a muscle as to not scare those gentle fingers away. Regina had stayed. A small smile played on Emma’s lips at the thought before the memory of multiple bathroom trips smacked her upside the head again. _Fuck…_ Emma next became aware of Crackers, clutched tightly under her chin. _Double fuck. So much for maintaining your air of cool._ She involuntarily scoffed at herself alerting Regina to her level of consciousness who promptly and disappointingly, pulled her fingers out of Emma’s hair immediately.

“You’re awake,” Regina half whispered, as if to make sure and got a murmured response in the affirmative. “How are feeling?”

“What time is it?”

“Don’t answer a question with a question, Miss Swan. The time is irrelevant. How are you feeling?”

Emma slowly sat up and took stock of her physical state. “I...I think I feel okay. A little wonky maybe. Like I’ve been sleeping too long.”

“Mm. About five hours now, since your last...you know.” Regina indicated toward the bathroom with a flick of two fingers while Emma reddened with embarrassment.

“You didn’t have to stay. I’m so sorry to have…”

Regina’s pointing fingers turned into a dismissive hand wave. “Nonsense. I wasn’t about to leave you here alone. We all get ill once in a while, Miss Swan; there’s nothing to apologize for...unless of course your illness was related to whatever week old chow mein mess that is in your fridge in which case, this _is_ all your fault and you deserve no sympathy whatsoever.”  
  
The hint of a smirk in Regina’s voice as she slid her laptop off her lap ( _when had she grabbed that?_ ) had Emma smiling for the first time since extremely early that morning. “So now you’re snooping through my fridge?”

“I do not _snoop,_ Miss Swan. I was merely checking for any signs of life or adulthood to properly care for my sick patient.” Regina quipped back. “I mean really, Flintstone vitamins?”

“Hey!” Emma was surprised by the slight increase in energy the playful bantering seemed to be giving her. “Those are a complete multi-vitamin.”

“For a twelve year old, yes.” Regina rolled her eyes and stood. “You seem to be feeling a bit better. What are the chances I can have you try to keep down some soup? Maybe just some of the broth for now?”

Emma sighed and tried to gauge the rumbles in her stomach again. “Yeah, maybe just the broth, but...I think I’d really like to grab a hot shower first. If you want to just leave the soup on the stove, I’ll grab some when I--”

“Miss Swan, you have tried unsuccessfully to dismiss me three times today. I doubt your fourth attempt will work either. Go take your shower and get back on this couch immediately following.” Regina headed for the kitchen to reheat the soup and make herself a bowl in the process. 

Emma stared after as she left the room and then slowly stood and wobbled toward the bathroom. As the steamy water cascaded down over her head, her thoughts bounced back and forth in an internal argument. _I can’t believe I’ve inconvenienced her this way. She chose to stay, chose to make you homemade soup, chose to run her fingers through your hair… I’d hardly say you_ made _her stay._ Emma frowned. This didn’t make sense. Wasn’t this exactly what she wanted? Regina to show even a shred of interest? _Is taking care of a sick employee interest?_ Emma didn’t know and despite the fact that she continually could hear M2 calling her an idiot in her head for denying it, she just couldn’t help but refuse to believe Regina would truly be interested.

Then again, she thought, if she didn’t think she’d be interested, why was she playing this whole twelve days game? What was the end result supposed to be if not Regina showing interest? What about the kiss? That had been amazing! _Well yeah, but she has no idea that was you._ But it _was_ Emma. Even if Regina didn’t know it yet, there was definitely some interest there. _So then why is she cheating on her twelve days mystery woman with her fingers in your hair?_ Emma rolled her eyes at herself and rinsed the conditioner from her hair.

  
It had been late morning by the time Regina, who had busied herself in the kitchen, heard the knock on the apartment door. Having slipped away to call Elsa, who turned out to still be Taylor for the day, she had instructed him to gather her laptop and the files from her desk and deliver them as soon as possible. Of course, being it was Taylor, “as soon as possible” had included three more phone calls to clarify and the passing of at least an hour before he finally showed up after an exasperated “Just bring it all!” from Regina had ended the last call.

Expecting a pile of paperwork and her laptop, Regina had been shocked to see a gift basket in his arms on top of everything else when she opened the door. “What on earth is this?”

“I...I’m sorry Ms. Mills. You said to bring everything and this was on your desk and I was sure you didn’t mean it but then I also wasn’t sure you didn’t and I--”

“Alright, alright. Just put it over there.” Regina lacked the will to figure out the babbling explanation. It was probably just some silly thing from Rogers or Gold trying to butter her up for their next disappointing presentation before the holiday. 

Now, as she stood in the kitchen again reheating the soup, having long forgotten the gift she had Taylor deposit on the table, she spotted the colorful cellophane from the corner of her eye. Although she doubted there was anything truly good inside, her stomach insisted she check it out. Soup was fine for the sick, but maybe there was something in there a little more enticing considering she had skipped lunch to hold back a certain blonde’s hair and had promptly lost her appetite in the process.

Regina had just opened the wrapping and the noisy cellophane had drawn Emma’s attention along with the smell of the reheated soup. “What’s that?” Emma blurted the inquiry a little too loudly. What the _hell_ was _that_ doing _here?_ She crossed the kitchen, dressed in cozy flannel PJ’s and a thick fuzzy sweatshirt.

“Oh, Taylor dropped it off by mistake. It’s just some ridiculous thing I’m sure. You know how many of these gift baskets we get every year.” She began to rewrap it without inspecting further. “I’ll just throw it in the breakroom tomorrow for everyone to share.”

“Well um...who’s it from?” Emma’s mind raced with the possibilities as to how Taylor had found the gift being as it was stashed neatly under her desk as soon as she had arrived at work and to her knowledge should still have been there now. Fuck it. It didn’t much matter how it got here, did it. It was here and so Emma decided to play dumb and finally get to see the receiving of one of her gifts in person. Grabbing the attached card she broke the seal on the envelope slowly to see if Regina would react. “Look, there’s a card! Ooh, fancy calligraphy--”

Regina snatched the card from her hand with a snap, clearing her throat in an attempt to cover her sudden interest. “Like I said, I’m sure it’s just from one of our clients.” She pulled the card halfway out of the envelope, recognizing the handwriting immediately and shoved it back inside quickly. “Yes, a client. No one of importance.”

“Oooooohh. Hot chocolate!” 

Regina’s attention was pulled back to the table where Emma, already elbow deep in bright red cellophane, was pulling the items one by one from the basket. Her heart nearly stopped as images of the broad possibilities of items that could be in that basket flashed through her brain. Granted none of her gifts had been overly explicit thus far, but the combination of the previous suggestive poems along with last night’s dance and kiss had her on edge as to what her next gift might be. “We really should just leave it for tom--”

“Lord of the Rings!” Emma was putting on her best Emmy award winning performance and considering her under the weather status, was doing an impressive job. “You’ve seen this right?” She waved the disc in front of Regina.

Regina blinked rapidly a few times, trying to find words to cover her growing anxiety. “Yes...um..what? Seen what?”

“The Lord of the Rings! This is one of the best movies ever. We _have_ to watch…I mean... _you,_ you should watch it sometime…” Emma’s excitement dampened when Regina’s brow quirked upward at the suggestion they watch it together. “And um…” She was beginning to babble trying to fill the silence between them. “I bet this hot chocolate is super good too...butterscotch, raspberry, mint...these are all primo flavors.”

Regina recovered and shook her head, chuckling lightly at the grown child in front of her. “If you think for one minute that I’m going to allow someone who’s spent half the day comatose and the other half worshiping the porcelain throne to pour liquid sugar down their throat you’ve got another thing coming, Miss Swan. You. Couch. Soup. Now.”

Emma gave a mock pout then returned Regina’s chuckle with a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

*****

Lying on the couch, her head on a pillow just to the left of Regina’s thigh, Emma’s lips curved into a small smile as Regina’s fingernails combed gently through her hair once again. Empty soup bowls sat on the coffee table in front of them and thankfully the broth seemed to be acceptable to her system as she currently felt no sudden urges to run for the bathroom again. Shortly after eating, the short burst of adrenaline she had felt in the kitchen had been drained and Regina had insisted she lie down again. Whether or not Regina had been surprised by Emma’s almost-suggestion that they watch the movie together, they were now an hour into their adventure to Mordor and Regina sat with rapt attention on the screen.

By the time the credits rolled, Emma was snoring lightly with her head almost in Regina’s lap. She glanced at her watch and gasped at the time. Almost nine-thirty? That was a long movie, and apparently based on the ending, part of an even longer series that she would have to procure at another date. Maybe day eleven and twelve would bring the rest of the story via gift basket… Regina felt a pang of guilt. 

Last night she had been kissing her mystery gifter in the park and now tonight, and really all day, she had been cuddling on the couch with Emma. What was she doing? She shook her head at herself. She was taking care of a sick employee, it was nothing more than that. _Right, cause when Belle had the flu last week you made her homemade soup and snuggled her on the couch for hours too…_ She rolled her eyes at herself. _Whatever._

Regina carefully stood up, allowing Emma’s head to rest back on the pillow so she wouldn’t wake her. Thankfully, she seemed to be feeling better despite her apparent exhaustion. She headed for the kitchen, put the remaining soup in the fridge and gathered the rest of the gift basket items before donning her coat. Sliding her hand into her pocket to retrieve her phone and text Graham to come collect her, her fingers brushed the envelope she had shoved inside. She glanced back at the couch down the short hallway and noticed no signs of Emma stirring before pulling it out to read.

 _  
Lords-a-leaping are hard to find  
_ _But my heart did fly with that kiss so sublime._ _  
_ _Your lips like candy, so soft and sweet,  
_ I hope I’ll taste more when we finally meet.

 _This gift is based on two things well liked.  
_ _I suggest the butterscotch, with a rum spike.  
_ _Curl up on the couch and think of me there,  
_ _Watching Frodo beat Sauron_ _  
_ While my fingers comb through your hair.

  
Regina almost choked on her next breath. Her eyes narrowed as she reread the card and then flicked down the hallway again. Had this all been a setup? No. No it couldn’t have been. There was no way Emma could have faked being this sick. And how would she have known Regina would spend the day with her...it had to be a coincidence. One giant coincidence.

Graham, alerting he would arrive within ten minutes to pick her up, Regina started to head for the door intending to wait in the lobby when her feet had other ideas. Basket and coat dropped by the front door, she returned to the living room where she stood by the couch gazing upon Emma’s tranquil face as she slept, hopefully cloaked in the sweetest of dreams. 

_Sweetest of dreams?_ Eyebrows shooting upward and eyes widening, Regina shortly sighed. What was wrong with her? Why was she behaving so...soft? She wanted to blame it on the holiday season yet deep down knew that was incorrect as she hadn’t been soft during the holidays since…

Shaking her head to clear it of a certain adorable redhead just a bit tipsy from special eggnog and blasting _Jingle Bell Rock_ as she puttered around the kitchen fixing far too many (albeit delicious smelling) baked goods, Regina focused on the adorable slumbering blonde before her. Emma Swan. Damn her. She blamed her for this. She was softening her up again and Regina didn’t appreciate it one bit. At least that was what she told herself as she leaned down, lips brushing a forehead to um...check Emma’s temperature. 

*****

Shifting onto her right side, Regina graced the annoying red digital numbers with a withering glare. Almost half past two in the morning and to say sleep had been fitful would be an understatement. Work was on her mind, sure. Yet she had to admit the majority of her thoughts settled between Emma along with her mysterious Christmas gift giver, otherwise known as the idiot. 

She had to hand it to them. That idiot was a ninja depositing their gifts here and there without anyone being the wiser. A movie snuggling gift basket upon her desk. So obviously they had put Day Ten’s gift giving into effect after she left to tend to Emma. Speaking off…

With a sigh Regina twisted her body until she could easily stare toward the ceiling again, narrow strips of light peeking through the blinds decorating its length. Why had she stayed with her today--well, technically, yesterday now? It was a question Regina had been loathed to pay attention to for hours, pushing it away each time it inched to the forefront of her thoughts. But at two twenty-nine in the morning there it sat on a bench, blocking the entrance out of her brain, sipping a cup of raspberry hot chocolate while smirking from behind the cup. 

So, Regina Mills, why did you feel compelled to not only accompany your sick employee home but stay with her? Sure, she works for you but she isn’t your responsibility. So what if she ate vitamins meant for children and had meager food choices in her refrigerator, that wasn’t your problem. You could have just dropped her off, wished her a ‘I hope you feel better soon’ and had Graham promptly return you to your place of business. Yet...you stayed. Oh my. Oh dear. Do you…no, that couldn’t...well, maybe.

Okay, straight up. Do you have feelings for Emma Swan?

Regina groaned. No, of course she didn’t have feelings for her. That was ridiculous. Just because she wanted to stay, wanted to take care of her, enjoyed making and eating soup with and watching _Lord of the Rings_ while stroking her hair didn’t mean--

 _Oh shit._ She liked Emma Swan. Not just as an employee, not just as a...were they friends? Her head bobbed against the pillow. Regina recognized Emma was the closest she currently had to a friend. She liked her. She would go so far as to admit (solely to herself) that at some point that remained murky she had developed a crush of sorts on Emma. A crush. Regina rolled her eyes feeling about sixteen years old with the inward admittance. 

And what of the idiot? Regina could no longer ignore the fact a little thrill shot through to her core and she tingled with anticipation in those moments before reading the poems designed for her. And that kiss at the park...that kiss had caused several thrills to race along with her heart and if she concentrated enough Regina swore she could still feel the softness, taste the sweetness of those warm lips on such a chilly evening. 

Two women. One a child at heart and the other a Christmas ninja. One Regina hoped hadn’t given her stomach bug germs and the other who had given her some delicious looking hot choco— wait. 

Regina sat up with a scrunched brow. Deep down something had been worrying her yet couldn’t quite decipher what it was but abruptly the thought had made itself known. She had seen those hot chocolate flavors before. Where? Rummaging through Emma’s cabinets just hours ago. The same exact brand and some of the same exact flavors Coincidence or not? How popular was this brand? I mean they had to be available in any store right? Regina had endured this conversation with herself so many times she wanted to reach for the guest pillow and smack herself with it. 

It _could_ be Emma. She did seem capable of being a ninja gift giving idiot but yesterday… She hadn’t been feeling well so how would she have left the gift basket. Dark eyes narrowed toward the ceiling. Easy, she had an accomplice...and if it _was_ Emma, Regina would wager that accomplice had two first names and a cherubic face. 

Damn it. She was going to drive herself crazy. At least until her secret admirer revealed themselves at the Christmas party. Two days away. No, she was much too impatient to wait that long. Cover thrown off Regina sat up, tapped the base of the lamp to turn it on then snatched up her phone. 

Her first thought was to contact Elsa, but there wasn’t any guarantee she would be into work tomorrow. Either she had one hell of a flu or she would be “sick” until after Christmas because she had went home to Alaska to visit family. If that were true she could kiss her Christmas bonus goodbye and they would have quite a long, stern chat upon her return. 

Taylor? Ugh...Taylor. She had saved the temp’s number but Regina shook her head not trusting him to complete this task. Putting this in his hands there wasn’t any telling what he would bring into the office later or how many pieces it may be in when it arrived. 

Graham it was then. He did well with her grocery shopping and she was certain he could find what she wanted. While bringing up the text and locating his name Regina made a mental note to give Elsa’s bonus to her chauffeur to go along with one he already had coming. 

**Graham, I need a teddy bear playing the bagpipes. Bring it when you pick me up later** _._

About to put the phone down a bit of that newfound softness made itself known. Although she groaned and rolled her eyes at herself, Regina shot off a follow-up message. 

**Thank you for your help. I’ll will of course, reimburse you for the bear and your time.**


	11. Chapter 11

I feel like shit. That was her internal response every time someone in the office asked how she felt today considering she had to be practically carried out the day prior. Outwardly, Emma pasted on the best smile she could muster, remarking that she felt better than she had. Which was true, but if it weren’t for her Christmas mission she definitely would still have called out. Feeling exhausted and with her stomach sore from all the porcelain praying she would have preferred to stay at home, but at her desk she sat nursing her second protein shake. 

Almost four hours ago she planted Day 11’s gift in Regina’s office while she was in a meeting, the card taped to her computer monitor. She hadn’t any idea if she had found it yet, though they had spoken a half dozen times, each occasion her boss asking how she felt and studying her like she had 911 on speed dial. Her repeated concern repeatedly caused a bit of warmth to spread through Emma. Upon each visit to her desk, the one time in the break room and even through their awkward bathroom conversation, Emma felt like Regina might just actually care about her a little. Her present state of well being however, was not letting herself feel like that little could have the potential to turn into a lot. 

Though the protein shake helped quell some of her fatigue, Emma found herself rereading the same paragraph upon her screen for the fifth time when a finger tapped her shoulder. Thinking it was Mary Margaret she swiveled around to discover her chair empty, only then recalling she had just gone to lunch after having pled with her friend to join her. 

“Wrong brunette.”

Just hearing the amusement in that voice brought a smile to her lips as she swiveled in the opposite direction and looked up also spotting the amusement on that beautiful face. “Hey, boss. What’s up?”

Regina made a point of tapping the face of her watch. “Time for lunch.” She glanced toward the bottle near Emma’s keyboard. “When was the last time you ate?”

Emma shook her head. “Thanks, but Mary Margaret was just trying to get me to go out, but I’m not hun--” 

“The soup?”

“Huh?”

“The chicken broth last night. Was that your last meal?” Watching as her employee begrudgingly nodded she sighed then turned and pointed toward her office. “Follow me. I’m going to feed you now. I realize your appetite probably hasn’t returned yet, but you need to force yourself to eat something in order to keep your strength up. I don’t want Santa to have to visit you in a hospital bed, so come on.” Clicking her fingers together, she didn’t wait for an answer, just turned on those killer heels she was an expert at walking in and headed back to her office looking better than the sexiest runway model Emma had ever seen. 

So involved in staring after her Emma didn’t leave her chair until Regina had walked back into her office. Scurrying after her after a moment, the scene before her touched her deeply. Instructed to sit on the couch, a small glass of cranberry juice, a grilled cheese sandwich cut into four squares and a bowl of tomato soup was set on the small coffee table in front of her. She didn’t have to eat all of it, but Regina would send her home if she didn’t at least each two of the squares and half of the soup. And yes, that was a threat. Despite that Emma smiled and softly thanked her while picking up the soup spoon placed upon a folded napkin. 

Very little was said as she ate, Regina eating her salad as she worked behind her desk, but there wasn’t any tension. Twenty minutes later, Emma had managed to eat almost all of her soup, three of the squares and all of the cranberry juice, earning herself a bright smile and gentle squeeze on the shoulder. Dang, perhaps if she had polished off everything that squeeze might have been upgraded to a hug. The bowl and plate taken away Emma thanked her again, arose and was about to head toward the door when her boss asked if she could show her something. 

Emma’s stomach twisted into knots. Had she found the gift? Turning to face her a frown of trepidation barely refrained from showing. Regina held a golden brown teddy bear wearing a little black hat adorned with a fuzzy red ball in its center and a tartan kilt and playing the bagpipes. Asked if she thought him cute she dumbly nodded then asked a question of her own. Why was Regina showing her this?

Regina turned the bear to face her, beaming. “He was a gift from my secret admirer. You know the gift basket I opened at your place yesterday?”

“Um, yeah...I thought that was from a client.” 

“No, no. That was also from this person. You see,” Regina turned to carefully place the bear near the edge of her desk, “it’s a theme modeled after The Twelve Days of Christmas and today is eleven pipers piping so he’s what they chose as my eleventh gift. Isn’t it cute?” 

“I see.” Although she was overcome suddenly with the urge to punch a hole through the wall, Emma managed a smile. “It’s really cute. How fun for you.” A bear playing the bagpipes. The hell? Was there an office copycat? Had someone figured out her gift game and used it to their own advantage? The one good thing the sudden anger did was to provide her with energy, which she planned on using to sniff out the son of a bi-- wait a minute. Regina wasn’t a fool. This was a test. _Fuck._ _She’s on to you, you idiot._

The anger began to dissipate as she glanced toward the fireplace, the only wood burning fireplace in the entire building as when the decades old building had been modernized into an office space, Regina refused to let the fireplace go. At least that was what Emma had heard. Regardless, it had come in handy for Day 11. Emma smirked on the inside while trying not to stare at what she swore was a small smudge of soot on Regina’s neck. Regina wanted to play? Test away. She planned on passing with flying colors. 

A broad smile was unearthed. “What are you going to name him?”

Regina blinked several times, a few emotions flitting across her face. “I...don’t know yet…” An eyebrow raised, a hint of amusement appearing. “Something better than Crackers.”

Gasping, Emma slapped a palm to her chest. “You wound me!” Enjoying the resulting laughter she invaded the other woman’s personal space and gently rubbed two fingers along her neck, managing to both smear and remove some of the smudge. Inspecting it up close, she made a show of swiping her thumb back and forth across the sullied fingers. Yep, soot. 

Feeling even better Emma lifted her eyes to meet a curious, narrowed pair and winked. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” Returning her gaze to her fingers, she dropped them to her pants and wiped them off casually. “What happened? Were you a good Samaritan this morning? Helped a stranded driver change a flat tire?” Emma glanced toward the clock on the wall and continued talking not giving her boss a real chance to respond. “Oh, I should get going!” Thanking her again for lunch she practically skipped towards the door beginning to whistle loudly. 

“What are you whistling?”

Emma turned back around biting back a laugh at the suspicion written upon Regina’s face. “Just a song I heard the other day...think it’s called  _ Let It Snow _ .”

The suspicion doubled. “Why?”

Expression remaining relaxed Emma pointed outside then gave a nonchalant shrug. “Tis the season and all that jazz.” Wearing a two thousand watt smile Emma skipped out. 

*********

  
“I never thanked you for yesterday.”

“Oh, you don’t have to thank me. Regina’s the one who got you home.”

“I don’t mean for the offer to carry me out of here, I mean for the special delivery.”

Mary Margaret swiveled in her chair to face Emma and grinned. “I know what you meant.” She laughed as her waggling eyebrows caused Emma to make a retching noise. “Oh jeez, don’t start that again, for all our sake.” 

Mary Margaret glanced towards Regina’s door. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure either of you would make it in today. You know she never came back to the office after dropping you off? I guess she went home to work…” Her lips pursed and a finger tapped just under them as if trying to figure out the mystery of the century. “I mean, I guess she worked from home cause I know I saw Taylor grabbing all her stuff from her desk around one…” She searched Emma’s face for an answer. “Hm...what time did she leave your place?”

“I don’t...I don’t know. I was kind of out of it, you know?”

“Mmhmm… Let’s see, she left here with you around ten, right? Yes, yes...and it couldn’t have taken you more than twenty minutes even in heavy holiday traffic to get home...I wonder why she waited so long to call Taylor then…” A slow smirk was creeping onto her face in tandem with the slow blush creeping onto Emma’s cheeks.

Mary Margaret dropped the act and lunged forward, grabbing Emma’s wrist, looking like she had just heard the Pope and Beyonce were caught in a compromising position. “What time did she leave your apartment? Oh my God! Did she stay the night? Oh my God! She stayed the night!”

Emma doubted the deep blush on her face was helping convince M2 of the innocence of the evening, but nonetheless she did her best to stay composed. “Don’t be ridiculous, M2. She did  _ not  _ stay the night. She just…”

“Just what?” If Mary Margaret’s eyebrows had crept any higher they’d have met her hair line. 

“I don’t know.” Emma waved her hand frustratingly. “She made me soup, that’s all...and maybe played with my hair a little...” The final part of her sentence trailed off as it hadn’t really had permission to exit her mouth from her brain before it had begun.

“She played with your hair?” Mary Margaret practically announced to the entire room.

“Shut. Up.” Emma growled through clenched teeth. “Tell the whole world, why don’t you? And no...I mean maybe, yes. Okay, yes. She kinda played with my hair a little but I don’t think she meant anything by it.”

Mary Margaret stared at her like she had sprouted a second head out of her shoulders and then began to sarcastically recount the presented facts thankfully at an almost whisper to her credit. “Right, right. So like, your smoking hot boss, the one who can reduce the average Joe to tears with little more than the quirk of her brow... She. Her. Regina Mills in the flesh, argued with me, a lowly employee over who got to take you home when you fell ill. Then she not only  _ took _ you home, but she stayed and whipped up some homemade soup and sat playing with your hair while you puked up a lung. Mmhmm. Yup, sounds like nothing to me.” Mary Margaret rolled her eyes so hard they probably could have spied her brain if she had stopped and looked. 

“Watched a movie too,” Emma mumbled and immediately felt the desire to punch herself when all she got in return was another incredulous stare. “It was the basket!” She tried to explain. “The stuff in the basket was movies and hot chocolate and stuff.”

“You. Went. On. A. DatewithRegina?” 

“No! Don’t be ridiculous! It wasn’t a date.”

“She made you dinner, you watched a movie, and she played with your hair...that’s called a date, Emma.”

“Yeah, and I spent the majority of the day puking or passed out. It doesn’t count, she was just being nice to me.”

“Mmhmm.” Mary Margaret shook her head in playful disbelief. “Cause that’s our Ms. Mills. Super nice. Hey, why don’t we ask Belle how the homemade soup and hair braiding went for her when she had the flu last week?”

“M2?” Emma’s lips formed a thin line. “Shut it.” She turned her back to the brunette who was still chuckling at her and added quietly, “And thanks again for the gift delivery.”

*********

It was after five by the time Regina had another chance to take a breath. They were slammed with deadlines and special requests from clients with nothing but absolutely “urgent” issues that just needed to be completed before the holiday break. It was the same thing every year and while other firms she worked with had occasionally made comments about Mills Designs being closed for the entire week between Christmas Eve and New Year’s Day, it was something Regina wouldn’t budge on. 

When she had first started the company she made a promise to herself that she would always do what was right for the company. Having seen plenty of competitors come and go it hadn’t taken her long to realize that appreciated employees were dedicated employees. Closing for a week in December may not be customary, but small perks like that had proven their own merit as hers was one of the most sought after firms to work for in the industry on the entire east coast and that reputation had earned her a fiercely loyal staff.

Regina rubbed her temples trying to thwart a small headache threatening at the edges. Two more days was all she had to get through. She sighed and shook her head. Who was she kidding? Regina would close the office and head home for the week where she would subsequently set up a remote workstation and drown herself in trying to run the entire operation solo. Same as she had done for the last five years. Filling the void of holiday activities left in her empty apartment with mountains of work and distraction. 

She had tried that next year. She really had. She put up the tree and sat with tears streaming down her face unable to place even one of the ornaments they had collected together on its branches. She had watched their favorite holiday movies and sobbed until she couldn’t see Kermit and Fozzie singing on the screen anymore. She had dressed for the office party and made it all the way to the elevator doors before the tears began again and that’s when she had decided that she couldn’t take it anymore. 

She had gone straight home, undecorated the house and tossed the tree onto the curb before December twenty-third had even seen 10:00P.M that year. Even now, four years later her apartment was still devoid of any holiday recognition. Well, she supposed that was true if you ignored the small and growing pile of gifts she had been collecting over the past week or so.

Regina caught herself smiling at the thought and released an exasperated sigh. This year did feel different, admittedly. She found herself gritting her teeth less at the incessant Christmas music played in the elevator and even had caught herself beginning to hum one of the tunes just the other day. She had gone window shopping for the first time in years and the brightly lit displays had not made her cringe. Whoever this mystery idiot was, she truly was doing a job in thawing Regina’s numbness to the holiday. Smile replaced with a frustrated huff, Regina picked up the kilt-wearing bear and shot him a look as if he was holding the secret from her.

Emma. Her test hadn’t exactly worked as planned. Emma didn’t seem surprised or even confused by the bear. That didn’t make sense either way because she should have been surprised by the sharing of the details of a secret admirer or if not that, confused as to the origin of the bear that clearly she hadn’t given. However, she was none of those things...in fact, after a beat she had seemed pretty damn happy. Was it possible she had figured out the test? And what about the little tune she was whistling? 

There was no way that was a coincidence. Regina was sure of it. There were just too many puzzle pieces in the Emma Swan box to not fit together. She mulled over the last few days. The dinners spent together, the little seemingly innocent comments made, the hot chocolate coincidence, the fact that Emma chose to whistle the exact same song she had danced to in the park the other night while wearing a shit-eating grin on her face. It had to be her. Regina ignored the rush of warmth she felt as she insisted it must be Emma without acknowledging how much maybe she just wanted it to be.

Day eleven’s gift sat unopened on her desk in a small thin box. She hadn’t read the note yet, wanting to have the chance to digest the contents when the office quieted down. Her fingers played with the red and burlap ribbon. Was the rustic fabric a clue to what was inside? She wiped a bit of soot off the box. 

Regina barely noticed the fireplace in the back of her office anymore it was such a part of the decor. She had had the old bricks cleaned up and the mantle refurbished when she moved into the office, glad to save the relic from the renovators before the office had been redone. It had charm that only a true designer could see the potential in, she had told the owner of the building when he had gone on about safety regulations and blah, blah, blah. She wasn’t going to actually burn wood in the office, she had assured him. It was more for the aesthetic and the historical integrity of the building. Although secretly she did love the idea of being able to do work in front of a cozy fire, she of all people knew the downtown commercial building codes would never allow it so she had compromised with allowing the renovators to seal up the flue.

Regina picked up the clue note she had found taped to her monitor this morning and reread it. Lines from one of her favorite, albeit a bit outdated, Christmas stories used for inspiration.

_  
Twas three nights before Christmas, _

_ And all through my mind, _

_ are thoughts of you smiling, _

_ when this gift you find. _

_  
No stockings there are hung, _

_ with good cheer and care. _

_ But perhaps if you look closely _

_ An eleventh token you’ll find there.  _

  
Stockings hung with care...Regina had taken less than a minute to figure out where her next gift was hidden. What she hadn’t expected was for it to be jammed so far up into the old chimney that she had gotten semi-covered in ages old soot. Most of which she had managed to wipe off her hands and arms but apparently, according to Miss Swan, had missed a spot on her neck.

Emma was due to stay late with her once again tonight. They had lost precious time yesterday and the site plan was due in tomorrow by noon or the town regulation inspector would be out for a minimum of two weeks on his own holiday break. Regina tugged the card from the envelope attached to the gift. On the outside chance this wasn’t her even with all the coincidences stacked up, she didn’t want to open it in front of the blonde.

Regina’s brow quirked upwards at the obviously non-poetic layout of this second note.

_  
Regina -  _

_ At this time of year, it can sometimes be easy to get lost in the melancholy of the traditions and people that have become part of our past whether willingly or not. _

_ I try to remember, when my mind settles there, that those memories are to be treasured and held close but should  _

_ never stop us from looking forward to new blessings and joy.  _

_ This year, I find myself hoping most of all that perhaps you and I can create some new reasons together, to smile and celebrate. _

_ Yours, _

_ \------- _

  
Regina read the note at least half a dozen times before dropping it back on her desk. Every other gift so far had been accompanied by increasingly playful and sometimes naughty poems. But this one...Regina wasn’t sure what to think. This one touched on something much deeper. The question was, what did this little box contain that someone could possibly know about her “past traditions”? Regina wasn’t exactly the type to share at work...or anywhere for that matter.

She sighed and fiddled with the bow again. She needed to chill out. Surely this was just some sappy, sentimental trinket that had no true connection to her at all. Probably a cute little ornament for her tree or some other holiday inspired bauble. There was no way this person could actually know how down she usually felt at the holidays or that they had been a big part of the reason that melancholy had been much easier to handle this year. No way she could know that every gift she had received so far, seemed to be more perfect than the last. So why then was she so hesitant to open the box? She didn’t have an answer to that but part of it may have been the fear that what lay inside may snap her back to those old memories again and take away the smile that had threatened the corners of her mouth these last few days.

“Am I interrupting?” Emma was leaned against the door frame to Regina’s office with an unreadable look. 

A quick smile produced, Regina shook her head and with as much subtlety as possible, placed the decorated box inside the top drawer in her desk. “No, you’re fine.”

Pushing away from the door frame Emma grinned while entering the room, quick to occupy what had become her spot on the couch. She felt a little like Sheldon Cooper as she settled back and wiggled getting comfortable. Grin persisting, she looked toward her boss. “Thank you kindly for the compliment, though I haven’t a clue what it has to do with my inquiry.” 

Regina quizzically stared back while she mentally replayed her short response until the invisible light bulb clicked on. A smirk replaced her confusion. Whatever was she going to do with this woman? Whatever would she do without her?  _ Without her?  _ What was wrong with her? The holidays needed to be over as they were wreaking havoc with her emotions. All these damned sentimental feelings. Regina would have liked to tuck them inside a box, wrap it up and mail it thousands of miles away. 

“Miss Swan, must I remind you that this is a place of business?” She picked up a stack of paperwork, grabbed the stapler and with much more force than needed secured them. She wasn’t even sure what this particular stack held. She just required something to do instead of gazing upon the adorable yet obnoxious goofball much too comfortable, too relaxed on her couch. Doing her level best to ignore the fact she (albeit internally) referred to Emma as adorable, Regina selected a pencil from the jar upon her desk and inserted it in the electric pencil sharpener. 

That grin not only remained but dared to increase. “No, I’m good.” A small pause and she added, “And according to you  _ very  _ fine.” 

Regina jabbed another innocent and already well sharpened pencil within the device. “I never said very.” 

“Ah,” Emma sat forward, elbows upon her knees and fingers linking, “but you do admit you think I’m fine?”

Concerned she might start throwing writing utensils at her employee Regina dropped the freshly sharpened pencil and pushed the jar further away. “Miss Swan, perhaps you need to watch those sexual harassment videos again?”

That grin still hadn’t been eradicated. “Hm. Now she’s asking me to watch movies with her?” Emma successfully dodged the number two pencil hurled in her direction, a laugh leaking out. “Gosh, Regina, first you’re sexually harassing me then resorting to violence! If I didn’t like you so much I might have to call the boys and girls in blue.” 

“How much  _ do  _ you like me?” The moment the softly and sincerely posed question passed through her lips without contemplation Regina desired to snatch it back. However, since it was too late she busied herself with gathering paperclips, finding half a dozen scattered upon her desk. The seventh paperclip discovered next to the near empty coffee mug, Regina went to pick it up when she felt fingertips brush her shoulder. Turning toward the left she found Emma standing much too close, those fingers curling upon her shoulder instead of falling away once her attention had been gained. 

The grin a thing of the past, a gentle smile tugged at Emma’s lips. “I sincerely think you’re one of the most incredible women I’ve ever met.” After a near full minute of silence, Regina’s jaw had opened but sounds failed to be produced, Emma took pity on her, squeezed the shoulder underneath her hand then indicated the bear perched on the other side of the desk. “Have you decided on a name yet?”

Regina blinked several times before the question permeated her brain. Telling herself she didn’t miss that hand on her shoulder she swiveled in her chair to examine the kilt wearing teddy bear. “Not yet.”

“Maybe Incognito.” Chuckling when regarded with a raised brow Emma shrugged. “In honor of the anonymous person who has been providing you with gifts.”

Regina regarded her through slightly narrowed eyes. She uttered that so smoothly, so authentically that it seemed Emma and the gift giving idiot couldn’t possibly be the same person, but still...despite how smooth Emma appeared, Regina’s doubt to her innocence hadn’t waned. However, she wouldn’t come right out and ask her. Perhaps that was because deep down Regina was aware of how disappointed she might be if Emma wasn’t her mystery admirer. And maybe, just maybe, she enjoyed the intrigue, the game, too much to learn the truth right then. Especially considering there was only one more day left. 

A finger tapped to her chin Regina glanced back at the only stuffed animal she owned. “While Incognito is a better name than Crackers I’m going to have to shut it down.” 

Emma smirked then turned to head back to the couch. “Crackers is a  _ stupendous  _ name.”

“Maybe for a parrot.”

Plopping onto the couch Emma laughed, leaning over for a moment to pull her phone from her back pocket. “If you named him Incognito we could call him Nito for short. That’s cute.” 

“Are you drunk?”

“Not at the moment.” Eyes upon the screen a smile curved her lips. “Why? Are you asking me out for drinks now too? You wanna hit a bar after we’re done working?” 

“I lied.”

Despite the unexpected response Emma’s face remained free of surprise as she continued searching her phone, a thumb scrolling along its screen. “About?”

“The bear.” Regina pulled in a sharp breath soon to release in near slow motion. “I bought him myself.” 

Both eyebrows shifting toward her hairline Emma looked over to her then. Where was she going with this? Was Regina on the brink of asking if she was her admirer? Would Emma confirm or deny? She wasn’t certain. “Are you...giving yourself presents?” Emma came very close to bursting into laughter after taking notice of her boss’s ‘what the fuck did you just ask me’ expression. 

“No! How pathetic would  _ that  _ be?” Offense written all over her face, Regina opened the top drawer, withdrew her latest gift and slapped it on the desk. “That’s the real day eleven present.”

“Oh I see.” A slow nod issued, Emma noticed the box remained intact. She found it hours ago so why hadn’t she opened it yet? “Why did you say they gave you a stuffed bear?” 

A good question. Unfortunately, she didn’t have an equally good answer prepared. Regina tried not to show her panic as she longingly glanced toward the jar of writing utensils, noticing a couple pencils in need of sharpening. Her name called she hesitantly returned her gaze to the woman seated on her couch, a small sigh escaping she hoped Emma hadn’t detected. 

“I...thought maybe...you might’ve been my—I mean, might have known who...” When Emma’s eyebrows rose even further Regina wrestled for something else to add. “I was testing you, gauging your reaction to the bear but you passed with flying colors.” A slightly shaky finger pointed toward the box. “Found this in the fireplace.”

“Huh.” Emma made a huge production out of getting up to observe the inactive fireplace. Crouched next to it she ran a finger along its floor collecting a dark smudge. Looking toward Regina she smiled. “Soot. That’s what was on your neck.”

Feeling like she had finally adopted a solid poker face Regina nodded. “Yes.”

Returned to the couch a third time, Emma reclaimed her phone, thumb moving across it again. “Lorenzo?”

A sudden frown pushed away some of her poker face. “Who is Lorenzo? You think he’s my admirer? No, no, I’m almost positive it’s a fem--”

A light chuckle ensuing Emma shook her head then showed Regina the website upon her phone screen. “Lorenzo’s, the restaurant. I’m finally hungry again and I’m in the mood for Italian and they deliver. My treat. What would you like?” She patted the cushion beside her. “Come check out the online menu.”

Lips pushed outward Regina studied that bowed blonde head as Emma looked over (or at least pretend to) the menu. So she wasn’t curious about the secret admirer? Of course she wouldn’t be if the person was her. Could she be jealous of them instead? She did seem inclined to change topics, which Regina decided to allow. Either one of those scenarios could fit that reaction though. Looking toward the bow wrapped box, fingers curled around it before she stood up and with day eleven’s gift in hand settled next to her employee, noticing Emma notice she had brought it over yet not commenting. Offered the phone she placed her gift on the table in front of them before focusing on the menu. 

A few minutes later having made her decision she handed the phone back and picked up the box while Emma tucked the phone to her ear to place their order for delivery. 

The entire time she spent on the phone, Emma felt anxiety creeping into her body as she tried pretending she wasn’t paying attention to Regina taking her time removing the bow. Part of her didn’t wish to be privy to the present’s reveal. What would Regina say? Would she link it to the conversation they had concerning her father’s pipe smoking? Would that prompt her to confront Emma? 

By the time the call ended the bow had been loosened and placed on the table. Fingers ran along that lid for so long Emma contemplated snatching the box from her to open herself. What was taking her so long? Emma kept her expression casual yet on the inside she was anything but. 

The box landed on the table with a thump before Regina donned her glasses and sat back with her laptop. The hell? Seriously? Was she freaking serious? Green eyes confusedly continued to dance between the brunette and the box. Was she on a mission to kill her? Why couldn’t she just open the damned gift already? Fiddling with a pen, Emma was about to comment on the lack of unwrapping when a work related question was thrown at her in a murmur. 

And that was that. The mountain of work they had to do swallowed their attention until the delivery person arrived was buzzed up by building security with a big brown, delicious smelling, paper bag. Adding a more than generous tip for having to navigate frigid, snowy temperatures, work was paused and the pair engaging in random chit chat while they ate. Throughout the aimless talk Emma kept glancing toward the box while Regina seemingly paid it zero attention. 

Should she be insulted? Did Regina no longer care? Was the thrill gone? Or...had it been dampened simply because she thought Emma had been her secret admirer and now figuring it was someone else didn’t care as much because she had wanted it to be Emma? Yeah, right. 

Sighing, Emma pushed away a half-full aluminum takeout container and reached for her bottled water. Her appetite wasn’t what she thought after all. Experiencing a throb above her left eye alerted her to an impending headache. All these thoughts, all the wondering, trying to guess what Regina could be thinking was exhausting her. 

“Are you okay?”

Concern etched on Regina’s features, Emma had just realized she had begun rubbing that aching spot above her eye. “Yeah, just developing a little headache.”

“Maybe you should call it a night. After all, you’re still recovering from your stomach ailment.”

Emma couldn’t shake her head quick enough. “No, I’m fine.” Despite those words she hopped up from the couch pointing toward the entrance to the office. “But I think I have a couple of Excedrin in my desk. Gonna go down a couple of those and use the restroom. Back in a sec.” Insisting she would throw away their trash she gathered the remnants of their dinner, tossed it all in the paper bag and walked out. 

Returning almost a full ten minutes later, after taking a moment to go grab some fresh air, Emma came to such a fast halt just inside the door she was surprised her shoes didn’t produce a screeching sound upon the floor. Headache forgotten, she focused on the woman seated on the couch hands clasped tightly in her lap, glistening eyes trained on the thin white fragrant wisps emanating from a burning bamboo stick held in a hand-carved wooden holder. Cherry vanilla tickled Emma’s nose, her stomach apprehensively tightening. Shit, didn’t this place have smoke alarms? She wasn’t supposed to light it here. But...at least she had finally opened it. Regina had waited all of thirty seconds after Emma left the office before she removed the lid. And now silent tears stained her face. 

Oh shit, had the gift caused her to cry? Emma hadn’t meant for that to occur. She just wanted to give her a nice memory. A hand raised in slow motion, she softly knocked on the doorframe immediately gaining Regina’s attention, the seated woman swiping at her face. “It’s my turn to ask now. Are  _ you _ okay?”

A faint smile appearing, Regina nodded. “Yes, I’m...it’s just allergies, the smoke...” 

Although she raised an eyebrow Emma chose not to comment, though she was certain her boss didn’t have allergies. Since the beginning of her employment at Mills Designs she could count the number of times she recalled hearing Regina sneeze on one hand. On the verge of commenting on the incense she ceased talking when Regina stood up, took a step in her direction then absentmindedly played with a button on her blouse while encouraging Emma to go home and get some rest. She could handle the rest of what had to be done that evening. 

“No, my headache isn’t that bad and the medicine should ki--” All thoughts sprinted from her brain as Regina closed the space between them and engulfed her in a hug. So startled was she by the sudden display of affection her arms remained at her sides until a slight squeeze encouraged them to rise, soon returning the embrace. What was this about? Not that she minded. Quite the contrary—Emma wished it never had to end. However, a few seconds later Regina took a step back. 

“Go home, Emma,” she spoke in such a soft tone Emma had to strain to hear her. 

She was torn. On the one hand, Emma  _ was _ fatigued having pushed herself to come in the day after her stomach bug. On the other she didn’t want to be away from Regina, especially with those tears still shining in her eyes. Had the gift upset her? Was she touched? Regardless, the last thing she wanted was to walk out that door without Regina by her side. 

“Let me walk you home at least.” 

“I have work to do here; I need to finish up the last specs and get this in the early morning delivery.” Regina paused and seemed lost in her own thoughts for a second. 

“I really want to help finish--”

“Nonsense. There’s less than thirty minutes or so of work to do on this. I’ll call Graham to come collect you.”

Emma bit back a sigh. So stubborn. Okay, she could be stubborn too, but this wasn’t about her. “I’ll walk.” 

Regina studied her face as though trying to commit it to memory. “You really shouldn’t, you’re still fighting...alright, alright.” She capitulated the offered ride when Emma began to protest a third time. “I’m your boss and I’m sending you home, Emma. Do not argue with your superiors.” A glint of a smile took the edge off her firm tone. 

Hesitance painfully written on her face, Emma stared toward the documents spread out on the table, gaze lingering on the burning incense for a moment. “Fine, fine. If you should need me…”

“I know how to track you down.” 

*****

Making sure Emma left by seeing her to the elevator, Regina sat on the couch, fingers clasped as she observed her gift. Such a reminder of those from the past indeed. The warm cherry vanilla scent was almost an exact match to her father’s favorite pipe tobacco; it was like being wrapped in his arms again while he wore his favorite smoking jacket. The only other person in her life to ever recognize the importance of that memory had been Jessica.

Perhaps they were together in Heaven now. Perhaps they had joined forces to make sure she didn’t spend another Christmas ignoring festivities and throwing herself into her work. Perhaps they had somehow placed Emma Swan in her life and now that adorable, thoughtful idiot had wormed her way into her heart. Regina thought she had effectively buried the key to her heart some time ago now, but Emma, stubborn little shit that she was, seemed to have found it. There was no doubt anymore about who her mystery gifter was. Only one person in the world, save her mother who was most decidedly not buying her secret Christmas presents, knew about her memory of her father. Emma. 

And now what? Now she sat there with tears trickling down her cheeks. Tears filled with the memories of what had once been along with the hope of what the future could possibly bring. Regina watched with fascination as smoke curled into the air, almost rhythmic in its movements, reminding her of the dance she shared with... _ Emma _ the other night. Two fingers grazed her mouth, that kiss suffusing her thoughts and Regina swore she could taste her anew. 

A soft knock and she looked toward the entrance to her office again. She wasn’t even surprised that she had returned. In fact she discovered herself quite content to see Emma awkwardly standing there, her cheeks rosy from being outside. So apparently she had at least exited the building but then…

“I couldn’t go,” Emma started, her tone quiet and maybe a tad cautious. “Tried, but...couldn’t.”

“Why?” Regina swiped at another annoying tear. What had this woman done to her? Finding her key, opening her heart, filling her with anticipation, prompting her to ponder the future…

“Because,” Emma deeply inhaled then released a trembling breath before pulling off her jacket and scarf, “this is where I need to be.” she finished in a whisper. Jacket and scarf tossed on the arm of the couch, she settled next to her boss, her leg very much pressed to Regina’s and without further word slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her tightly into her side. And Regina allowed her to. In fact she welcomed it, sinking into that comforting embrace and laying her head lightly on Emma’s shoulder. 


	12. Chapter 12

Emma awakened with a smile on her face and try as she might she couldn’t remember the last time that happened. It was day twelve and tomorrow was the Christmas party. She was both excited and terrified. The whole thing really was silly though. It was clear from last night that Regina certainly didn’t have an issue being close to Emma. But then again… that all could have been nothing, right? So okay, Regina had hugged her. That could have just been because she was concerned about her health or maybe it was just a thank you for all the work on the project. 

Emma rolled her eyes at herself. Sure. And she supposed, the long snuggle on the couch and soft kiss on her cheek after Emma  _ had _ wound up walking her home had just been a very professional way to end their evening project work together. She was sure that all projects Regina finished ended with snuggles and soft kisses and whispered good nights. If her eyes rolled any harder, she would have hurt herself.

So what was the issue then? Why was she so nervous about this last gift and tomorrow’s impending reveal? She finished tying up the bow and sat down at her kitchen table to write out the final poem. Maybe it was because this last gift was so...well...assuming? Emma laughed at her own prudeness. This wasn’t “assuming”, this was straight up, down and dirty, let’s get it on please, you gorgeous, sexy woman and she knew it. One didn’t go to a place called “The Pleasure Chest” for something “assuming”.

Of course, it still remained to be seen if this final gift would send Regina running for the hills. Emma didn’t think so though, at least not when she had picked it out. The doubts were starting to creep in a bit now, but when she had seen it on the shelf it had just screamed Regina. Everything about it; the deep burgundy color, the plunging but tasteful sweetheart neckline bra, the matching, high cut boy shorts. Emma had stared at the mannequin for a good ten minutes picturing Regina’s every curve filling out the lacy and racy ensemble. Of course, it remained to be seen if Emma could come up with a poem good enough to convince her to wear it under whatever guaranteed knock out outfit she had planned for tomorrow night.

Emma got out her last piece of cream colored stationary and set to work trying to steady her hand enough to neatly write out her calligraphy message. 

_  
Like twelve drummers drumming,   
_ _ My heart beats out of my chest,  
_ _ when I think of you wearing,  
_ _ these under your dress. _

_ Then the tempo increases  
_ _ thumping more and more,  
_ _ when again my mind wanders,  
_ _ to these things on my floor. _

Emma’s eyebrows shot up at her own creation and a bit of color flushed her cheeks. Was it too much? Nope. She made the decision with a deep breath and curt nod to herself then sealed the envelope before she could think twice.

*****

Regina woke up early the next morning despite not having gotten home until close to eleven. Emma. The first word that surfaced to clarity in her morning fogged brain produced a sleepy smile before she was able to check her own sentimentality. Her mystery idiot  _ was _ Emma. There was no doubt anymore. Her sleepy smile widened just a bit without her permission once again. So now what?

It was officially the twelfth day of Christmas so for the final gift what might her true idiot give to her? Drummers Drumming. Rent a marching band to perform inside the office? Give her a drum set? Present her with a bucket filled with a dozen chicken drumsticks? A laugh sprang out following that last idea. Out of the three Regina would prefer the chicken, especially if roasted. 

Her stomach growled, which encouraged her to rise and pad barefoot into the kitchen to fix a bowl of cereal while she continued to think about Em—roasted drumsticks. 

*****

One might assume or at least hope the day leading up to the final day before the holiday break at Mills Design would hold a cherry atmosphere and it did. The staff was busy exchanging yummy foods, gifts, smiles and laughs while holiday music permeated the floor, thanks to their boss who seemed to be in a terrific mood. Tomorrow would be a total phone it in day of festivities ending in the office party and with Santa on his way, everyone was in high spirits, including Regina who sat behind her desk sipping another cocoa selection from day ten’s basket while casting an affectionate smile toward the slim, rectangular box dressed up in shiny silver wrapping and topped with a burgundy bow. This box, by far, the largest she had received to date. The sealed card within her hand, she wondered what those calligraphy crafted poetic lines would say on the final slip of paper. 

Although she hadn’t burned any incense this morning the cherry vanilla still pleasantly hung in the air and tickled her nose, producing another smile. Unable to wait today, Regina was currently ignoring one of three “urgent” emails in her inbox in favor of her final gift. Sliding a slim index finger under the glued flap of the note she popped the seal free and flinched when her personal cell lit up with a blaring ring. The smile that had been present pretty much since she awakened melted like an ice cream cone in the middle of the Sahara Desert when the impending doom-laden notes of Darth Vader’s _ Imperial March  _ registered in her ears _. _

Fuck. What did  _ she _ want?

Regina wanted to ignore it, perhaps pick up her phone long enough to activate the mute feature, yet the obedient daughter tucked deep within wouldn’t allow that to happen. In fact, the annoying little twit insisted she answer the call with a smile that if witnessed by anyone else would have been described as more of a grimace. 

The second she pressed the phone to her ear a chill traveled along her spine. A cheery hello forced out, Regina was both relieved and concerned when it wasn’t her mother’s voice that greeted her. Stepfather number...four? Five? His name was Steve. Or Stephen. Or Harold. 

“Regina!” Number five sounded almost out of breath. Harold. It was definitely Harold. Or Desmond. Thankfully he continued without giving her a chance to find an appropriately cordial greeting.

“You must come quickly! It’s Cora! Your mother...she’s been in a terrible auto accident.”

Regina’s heart stopped beating for a second. The mixed wave of emotions that swept over her wasn’t something she had time to unpack at the moment but suffice it to say any psychologist would have had a field day with the conflicting reactions her brain ran through in a matter of seconds. “Is...is she okay?”

“She’s just...come out of surgery now... and...oh Regina. I’m not sure what to do. They said...she’s asked for you.” 

Regina could barely understand him through the racking sobs that punctuated each sentence and much to Regina’s chagrin, the twit was back in a heartbeat. The guilt-laden pleaser who wished for nothing more than to be loved by this cold-hearted bitch was offering to drop everything and of course, rush to the woman’s side. “Rush” of course was going to mean a four and a half hour drive to Boston on one of the most heavily trafficked days of the year. She could call Graham of course, but she couldn’t do that to him. This was serious. Donald/Harold/Lawrence(?) was very clear about that and she was probably going to be staying in Boston for a few days if not longer.

Regina didn’t want to admit to the worry that was beginning to creep into her chest as she quickly packed her things and headed for the main reception desk to explain her needing to leave and give instructions to Taylor on some last minute deliveries and projects. It was hard to distinguish the feeling from the usual dread that accompanied any visit to her mother as that began to settle in her stomach as well.

Emma had run out around ten that morning to hand deliver the pro bono project to the city hall office. After calling the courier service three times between eight and then, she had stopped taking “he’s on his way” for an answer and decided to hoof it the eight blocks herself. The city streets were overcrowded with shoppers and tourists and the fight to walk in the uptown direction took much longer than she had hoped. Crowd battling, coupled with the mandatory schmoozing of the city inspector to not ignore the final draft until after he returned from his vacation in the Bahamas in two weeks, had her back on the streets heading back to the office a few minutes after noon.

Her path taking her past Buzz Off, she decided to stop in for a couple cups of coffee. She didn’t doubt for a minute Regina would be holed up in her office ignoring the festive atmosphere outside her door in favor of finishing up last minute work. Of course, that had always seemed silly since Emma knew damn well she didn’t stop working during the break either. A slight smile picked the corners of her mouth upward. Maybe this year, she could change that.

Could Regina make coffee for herself with her new french press? Sure. But Buzz Off always had the most amazing holiday specialties and since there was no way Regina would be partaking in ninety-percent of the holiday treats everyone was bringing in, Emma also wanted to make sure she grabbed a black bean brownie for her. 

Standing in line perusing the various December specials, Emma settled on two Christmas tree shaped brownies, one vanilla and cinnamon spiced chai tea for Regina to mix it up a bit, and a double shot latte infused with gingerbread for herself. Caffeine and sugar...perfection. Heading back out into the cold, she dodged some puddles and icy patches, skirted around a hoard of window shoppers and headed for the elevators with her still steaming treats. 

“Hey Tay!” Emma almost laughed when Taylor flinched at the sound of his own name. The poor kid had been here for the better part of a week or more and still strongly resembled a squirrel dodging hail stones whenever someone asked him for something. Having come to a halt in the middle of the aisle he awaited her approach, the expression he wore a humorous mix of apprehension and panic as he nervously played with a hideous reindeer infested tie. Rudolph most likely since the red noses seemed to glow. 

“Just dropped off the plans with the city inspector, so that’s taken care of.” Emma glanced toward the darkened windows of Regina’s office with a small furrow of her brow. That was weird. “Do you know if Regina is in a meeting? I want to give her the good news along with,” Emma raised the fragrant cup holder and small, white bag in her hands, “celebratory but healthy yum.” She expected a chuckle back at least but instead squirrel-boy still looked like he was being hunted by a pack of starving hawks. 

“She, uh. She left. I don’t know where she went. Well...I mean, I know  _ where  _ she’s going, but I don’t know where she is.” His eyes widening behind a pair of thick, red rimmed glasses, Taylor continued flipping his all aglow neck wear, “What I mean is, she’s out of the office right now.” What the hell was Taylor doing giving her the standard phone response? This kid, she swore.

A trickle of dread pushed away, Emma reminded herself to maintain the cheery smile and proceeded carefully as to not scare him away under a rock. “Where did she go?” The short sentence emerged in slow motion, as if she were speaking to a confused or frightened child.

Taylor cleared his throat, shifting his eyes to the left and the right like someone was listening. “Ms. Mills instructed me to say she’s out of the office until after the holiday break.” He swallowed hard at Emma’s deep frown. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but she said in an emergency she can be reached on her cell. She’s on her way home.”

The news was surprising and not what Emma expected at all. “Why? Was she ill?” Oh no. Had Regina caught her stomach bug? If so, Emma was about to also be done for the day so she could hightail it over there to return the favor of taking care of her. She would be happy to. 

Taylor shook his head. “She didn’t look sick to me. A little pissed maybe, or I don’t know...in a rush. All I know is she dumped a shit ton of stuff on my desk, damn near threatened my life with her list of instructions and said she was going home.”

Stunned eyes widened. She wasn’t sick yet she left? That was unlike her. “What about the party?”

He shrugged, tie almost flipped over his shoulder. “Didn’t sound like she’d be here. Listen,” Taylor cleared his throat, pushing his glasses further up an aquiline nose, “I gotta get back to work. She made it pretty clear I needed to finish this stuff up by tomorrow.” An apology murmured, he walked away leaving Emma with multiple questions, now one too many steaming beverages and treats and a slowly fracturing heart. 

She left. She was gone and she didn’t intend to attend the Christmas party. 

Somehow, she made it back to her desk, gladdened Mary Margaret wasn’t currently around. Drinks and brownies dropped next to the wireless keyboard she sank into her chair, staring toward the blank computer screen. She left. And she didn’t even bother to say goodbye. 

Emma didn’t understand. It didn’t make a lick of sense. She hadn’t given any indication she intended to leave early so something much have happened. Her eyes widened, hands gripping the arms of her chair so vigorously her knuckles began to pale.

The twelfth gift.  _ Fuck me _ . It  _ was _ completely over the line. Regina was probably so insulted or creeped out or pissed off that she needed to leave. Did she know it was Emma? Last night made it seem like maybe, even if she didn’t, she wouldn’t mind if it was. But now Emma had gone and fucked it up completely. Why the hell didn’t she stick to something more appropriate? Stomach virus not at fault this time, Emma once again felt like throwing up at her desk.

*********

Regina’s frown could not have deepened any further when only an hour outside of Boston, as the traffic once again began to build after hours of various congestion slow downs, it began to snow. Icy roads and further idiot drivers were not going to improve her mood or get her to the hospital any quicker. Harold or Ron or Steve, she was almost positive it was Steve now, had called almost every thirty minutes to inquire as to her progress until she politely informed him that despite his constant pestering, she did not have the ability to just wave her hands and poof there in a cloud of magical smoke. After his fourth call, she finally had enough and turned her phone off completely.

It was almost five-thirty by the time the hospital parking lot signs directed her toward the in-patient care area. Grabbing her purse from the passenger seat and pulling her scarf tight around her neck, Regina stepped out into the frigid Boston air that had gone from dropping a light snowfall to a much steadier pace over the last hour. God, she hated winters in Boston. There was no such thing as just a few flakes here.

Regina sighed with frustration as she waited for the nurse at the reception desk to finish a phone call. Eyes darting down the hall, she considered just bypassing the woman, but the sign-in sheet and large, obnoxious sign reminding all visitors to obtain a pass quelled her initial instincts. However, if this phone call didn’t wrap up soon, Regina was going to assist in putting whoever it was on the other end of the line on hold considering the longer she stood there, the less the call sounded like a medical emergency and more like one about who was bringing what to dinner on Christmas Eve.

Finally, after another few minutes of testing Regina’s nonexistent patience, the call ended with Cynthia, according to her name tag, deciding to bring the yams with pineapple this year, because apparently someone else by the name of Samantha always makes them with marshmallows and “that’s gross”. Despite the fact that Regina actually agreed with Cynthia’s assessment of Samantha’s yam casserole ingredients, she was in no mood to share a sympathetic moment with the woman when she finally turned around to address her.

“What can I do for ya?” Cynthia sounded anything but helpful.

“I’m here to see--”

“Did you sign the book?” Cynthia shoved the book that was sitting on the edge of the high counter in front of her into Regina’s wrists that were resting on the edge.

“Yes.” Regina’s tone dripped with sudden and complete disdain. Being interrupted was not something she was accustomed to.

“Are you visiting someone?”

Seriously?  _ No _ , Regina wanted to snark back, _ I’m here selling Avon and judging by those lines under your eyes, you could use some _ . Taking a short but deep breath, Regina instead chose civility, hoping it would get her further. “I’m looking for my mother, Cora Mills. She was in a car accident this morning and I believe was taken to the ICU.”

“No one in ICU with the name of Cora Mills.” Cynthia didn’t even look down at her chart.

“Excuse me? You must be mistaken. Perhaps you could actually  _ check  _ the bed roster.” Regina’s annoyance was obvious.

“Look lady, there’s only six people in ICU tonight. Two of ‘ems kids and the other four are all men. Unless your mother resembles a seventy-four year old fat guy with congenital heart failure, she ain’t here. You sure you got the right hospital?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Boston Presbyterian. I don’t understand…” She trailed off looking confused and half turned away. 

“Maybe you’re just in the wrong area.” Cynthia suddenly seemed to take a softer approach more than likely in an attempt to get rid of the problem in front of her rather than solve it. “Head down this hallway and make two lefts. Take the elevator up to the fourth floor and make a right at the end of the hallway. That’s general admittance. If she came into the emergency room and isn’t in the ICU and wasn’t discharged, she’ll be up there.”

Regina gave a small nod and headed off in the direction she was pointed in. Steven had said that Cora had just come out of surgery. Perhaps it  _ was  _ possible she had been moved into general admission by now since that was hours ago. The elevator carried her up four floors and the doors opened into a crowded hallway and waiting area. Thankfully, as she was exiting the doors trying to decide whether Cynthia had said left or right at the end of the hallway, she spotted a slightly familiar looking man with white hair and deep lines of worry etched onto his forehead who also seemed to spot her at the exact same moment.

“Regina!” He almost sobbed the word with relief upon seeing her and proceeded to perform a rather awkward dance move trying to decide whether or not to hug her with two cups of coffee in his hands. Two? Was he double caffeinating or was Cora feeling up to drinking coffee? That couldn’t be possible if she had just come out of surgery that morning. “Thank God you’re here!”

“St...It’s good to see you.” She stopped herself short of using a name she still wasn’t one hundred percent sure of. “How’s my mother?  _ Where’s  _ my mother?” 

“She’s resting now. They have her in a room down the hall. She’ll be so happy to see you!” 

“I’m sure.” Happy to see her wasn’t something Cora really ever seemed to be unless she was in the mood to cut someone down. Steven, instructing her to follow him, headed down the hall carefully carrying the hot beverage cups. Paused outside a closed door with the name ‘Cora Mills’ affixed to the right of it, Steven turned toward his stepdaughter with a grim expression in place. Telling her to enter, Regina placed a hand upon the door handle and released a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. 

This was it. It had been five years, the day of Jessica’s funeral in fact, since she laid eyes on her mother. The last words she spoke to Cora hadn’t been kind and despite what condition she might find her in on the other side of that door, Regina didn’t regret what she said on that most dreary day. She never would. It was difficult to regret telling a person who popped up at the church wearing a tomato red dress along with a black hat so large it made a sombrero look like a yarmulke to get the fuck out. 

Of course, Regina hadn’t rudely told her to leave because of her outfit, even though she did think it in horridly bad taste. No, what truly caused those venomous words to fly from her mouth was that just a few months prior Cora mentioned Jessica’s sickness was a blessing in disguise. God had obviously struck her with cancer so that Regina could move on and find a proper relationship with a man--preferably one with a great deal of money. This silly “gay phase” could be over and done with. Thankfully that statement had been made over the phone, otherwise, Regina may have committed matricide.

Then, on the day of the funeral, dressed as if she were attending a Mardi Gras garden party, Cora had put the nail in her own coffin so to speak. As Regina sat there in the front row of the small chapel, quietly mourning the loss of her wife, Cora had leaned forward from behind her and quietly made the suggestion in her ear that she: “stop this blathering, your mascara will run.” After all, there were at least three eligible men in the chapel that day and while “sympathy and need is always a good way to draw someone in, one must remember not to cross the line into ugliness and patheticism.” That was when Regina had dropped the F-bomb loud enough for the entire room to take note of Cora’s dismissal. The fact that she had left without another word, and not the cruelty and complete lack of empathy for her daughter, was the real shock to Regina.

Was she ready for this? Was she ready to face her after again after that? After her inability to apologize? After how haughty and ostentatious she had been? Yes. Lips pressed in a straight line, Regina bobbed her head. She had to be. Despite everything the woman in that bed, the woman fighting for her life following a terrible wreck was her mother. She gave her life. Had she often made that life hell? Oh hell yes, but...despite all Cora’s many, many,  _ many _ faults Regina managed to still care on some level, to still love her despite it all. 

So she was determined to be the bigger person. To be here, to offer her support to her mother and Paul...Steven. Her brow knit. No, maybe it was Solomon. Wait, no, Solomon had been husband num-- _ oh, what does it matter? You’re stalling. Just go in already. _ And so with a large breath, Regina turned the handle, pushed the heavy door open and walked through, both feeling and hearing Steven or perhaps Solomon following close behind. 

Three steps taken into the room and Regina’s feet abruptly felt like they had suffused in cement. For several moments she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t talk and couldn’t even form a thought as she stared toward the bed. She hadn’t known what she would find, but suspected Cora to be lying down attached to one of those EKG monitors, an IV running into a vein and perhaps an oxygen mask on her face as she slept. None of that was true. Instead, Cora was in a seated position wearing silk pajamas, glasses perched on her nose as she flipped through a fashion magazine. Except for the cast upon her left foot she appeared fine, offering a wide, relief-filled smile upon spotting her only child. 

“Oh, Regina!” Magazine shut, Cora dropped it on the wheeled, walnut bed tray, a heavy sigh pushed through her lips. And was she seriously wearing lipstick? Hadn’t she just endured surgery? “It’s about time you got here.” Cora shook her head, glossy, freshly dyed dark hair swinging around her shoulders as she rolled her eyes, the look upon her face suggesting that she was the most affronted person in the world. “These nurses--and I use that title loosely--are so very inattentive. Do you have any idea the fight I endured to get a private room?” 

She indicated the pink plastic pitcher atop the tray. “I can’t even get a decent glass of water around here. You know me, dear. I simply cannot stand near room temperature water; be a lamb and find me some ice water.” Without awaiting an answer, Cora’s attention shifted to her husband, her tone dipping into a pathetic baby talk timbre. “Do you expect me to drink that coffee through osmosis, Muffin? Give me my cup then close the blinds a bit please. The sun is just glaring in my eyes.” 

In seven seconds he had given her the triple, venti, half sweet, non-fat, caramel macchiato and partially shut the blinds. Meanwhile, Regina’s feet remained cemented and obviously her voice box had been too since she hadn’t uttered a word. Annoyance on full display, Cora clucked her tongue and even dared to snap her fingers in response to her daughter’s lack of movement. “Regina, did you hear me? You know I prefer to drink coffee with water on the side to avoid staining my teeth so quick like a bunny now, dear.” 

A part of her finally moved. Her right eyebrow. Who the hell did this woman think she was? Perhaps  _ Muffin _ (damn, what was his real bloody name?) was perfectly fine with her ordering him around, but Regina wouldn’t stand for that shit. “I remember that you like your coffee with a glass of ice water, Mother,” she murmured. 

Cora offered her a slight smile tinged with impatience. “Then go freshen the pitcher, dear.”

Instead of following instruction Regina focused on the cast covered foot. “Is that your only injury?”

“Oh, it was horrible!” Horror jumping onto her face, Cora pressed a hand to her upper chest, fingers splayed. “There I was advancing on the sidewalk carrying a couple of shopping bags containing last minute gifts when one of those God awful catering trucks plowed right into me. I intend to sue.” She sniffed. “Already discussed the case with my lawyer. By next year I will own Tacky’s Tacos or whatever it’s called.”

The other eyebrow rose. “Plowed, Mother? If that were true, I doubt your only injury would be a broken foot.”

The hand just on her chest dismissively waved. “Just the toe, dear… but that’s mere semantics.” Cup retrieved from the tray, Cora removed the lid before delicately blowing along the surface. Dark eyes flicking toward Regina her own eyebrow rose. “Water. Now.” 

The fact that she managed to muster the same stern tone she had when her daughter was a teenager and had neglected her homework only proved to piss Regina off all the more. Hands balled at her sides she contemplated giving her mother a much more serious reason for being in the hospital. She would have rolled her eyes the moment  _ Muffin _ carefully fluffed the pillows behind Cora’s back but she was far too busy offering a glare that had yet to register with the patient. 

“Your husband had me thinking you were at death’s door, I arrive and you’re sitting up reading a magazine like you’re at the damn spa.” 

Having just swallowed, Cora placed her caramel macchiato back on the tray while staring toward her daughter with an unreadable look. “Language, Regina.” She gave her a long hard look. “Would you prefer that I be at death’s door then, dear?” she quietly asked.

“I’d prefer that you behave like a half-way decent human being.” 

The shock on Cora’s face was so genuine Regina could scream. “I could say the same about you. You still haven’t bothered to fetch my iced water.” When her husband volunteered to go get it Cora snapped her fingers, pointed to where he stood next to her bed and instructed him to stay right there. Attention returned to Regina, who had failed to move even an inch toward the pitcher she noticed her glare and was quick to match it. “You have some nerve coming here with an attitude after how you treated me at your...friend’s funeral. And honestly Regina, the lack of ring on your finger now tells me you’re still wallowing in this delusion of self pi--” 

Nails digging into her palms Regina wouldn’t have been surprised if she uncurled her fingers to discover warm, red moisture. “Jessica was my  _ wife  _ and you’re lucky I didn’t turn it into a double funeral.” 

Hand flying back to her chest Cora gasped. “How dare you speak to me in that manner! I am your mother, and you will respect me. You flagrant display of emotion that day was forgivable but this is unacceptable!”

She had never...over four decades of dealing with this...excuse for a human being, Regina had never truly spoke her mind. Sure there had been an uncultured word or sentence here and there, the last being when she told her to fuck off at the funeral, but for the most part Regina had been able to hold her tongue. 

Until now. 

All these years she felt akin to a balloon, every insult, every criticism, each moment of domineering behavior filling her with more helium until five years ago she was able to fly away. But now Cora had managed to locate and tug on the string to pull her back. It wouldn’t last though because unbeknownst to her mother the balloon had finally run out of room for helium and was about to pop.

“You want my respect?” Regina shifted toward the bed, but not to retrieve the pitcher. “ _ My  _ respect? Have you looked in the mirror lately, Mother? Because if you did, if you  _ really _ observed yourself you would realize  _ you  _ are the most disrespectful person that you know.” Steven shifted uncomfortably back toward the blinds and began to fiddle with them once again. 

“The only thing you have ever truly done for me was to give me life, and sometimes I wonder if that was really even a gift so much as a curse. From my first memory, you have continued to make that life hell, make me feel unloved and unwanted, made me feel a burden and a bother. I don’t even owe you a modicum of respect. And yet,” Regina threw her arms up, an unhumorous laugh escaping her throat, “I dropped everything to rush to your side because despite what a mega bitch you are, you’re still my mother.” Cora looked as if she had been slapped but Regina was not interested in her dramatics at the moment. “But do you care about that? Do you thank me for coming, show the slightest bit of genuine appreciation that I’m here? No, you start ordering me around and acting like it’s been five hours instead of five years since you’ve seen me.” 

Steven/Paul/Jeffrey coughed in the corner but was ignored. “Now I remember why I haven’t missed your presence in half a decade.” Blinking away tears of anger and swallowing around the small lump in her throat, Regina whispered, “There is nothing to miss. I mean nothing to you and honestly the feeling is mutual.” A hand swatted the air as she pulled herself together and straightened her spine. 

“I’m done. Merry Christmas and have a nice life, Mrs.,” she quizzically glanced toward the wide-eyed man stood with the blind strings clutched in his fingers like they would save him from the situation, “whatever the hell his name is.” Without waiting for a response Regina turned and headed toward the door.

“Franklin! ( _ Franklin?)  _ This water isn’t going to refresh itself.” were the final words she heard Cora speak as the door swung closed behind her and the fact that her only thought after Regina’s declaration was of herself and the damned ice water, was all Regina needed to be one hundred percent sure of the end of her relationship with the woman who claimed to be her mother but never truly had been.

*****

Regina checked into the hotel around nine. It taken her some time to clean off her car upon discovering that the snow had not waned while she was inside, instead seeming to have turned into a real storm. Resigning herself to a hotel room for the night was a decision that had come when she was less than forty minutes outside of Boston two hours later and could barely see through the windshield in the almost complete standstill of traffic. 

Thanks to a blazing roadside vacancy sign, she had been able to navigate off the highway and find a room relatively quickly despite it being the last place in the world she wanted to be right now. Well...second to last seeing as  _ Franklin _ (?) was most likely going to be sleeping in a chair next to his wife’s bed tonight. The image of the man curled up in an anxiety ridden ball at the bitch’s feet flashed through her mind and would have made her laugh if it wasn’t so pathetic. For the life of her, she couldn’t imagine how a man like that could have amassed a large enough fortune to satisfy Cora Mills’s love affair with money. Perhaps he hailed from old money. 

Settling down into the soft, king sized bed, Regina tried to push the negativity away. This chapter of her life was closed now. She should look forward. She took a few deep breaths and tried to clear her mind and relax, something Regina Mills did not often allow herself to do. Her thoughts drifted towards work and she tried to push them away. Projects, deadlines, schematics, setbacks, planning boards...she loved her job but there had to be more to life than work didn’t there? There used to be… Seeing her mother again had brought to the surface so much long numbed pain but there was more to the melancholy feeling this time. There was a calm of relief in knowing that she could finally let go of that part of her life. The guilt and the shame that was the gift of being Cora Mills daughter was over. 

Regina was loathe to admit it, but one thing her mother had indicated might have been true, at least a little. It had been five years and Regina was still alone. She wouldn’t exactly categorize it as self pity as her mother had so indelicately began to accuse, but more of a self-inflicted punishment. Punishing herself for not being strong enough to beat Jessica’s illness for her. Regina knew that was a ridiculous notion to ever have laid on herself but it wasn’t something she did consciously. The pain of the loss had made losing herself in her work a logical escape. The years of sadness had been easier to face as she hardened herself to anyone else being allowed in. 

She sighed at the revelation as she psychoanalyzed her recent behavior. Regina  _ was _ strong, but perhaps in all the wrong ways. She thought about Jessica and how much she loved Regina’s smile, the way she swore she could see it in her eyes when she was truly happy, often catching her staring when she didn’t think Regina noticed in a playful moment. That smile had been almost erased from Regina’s life...until the last few days that is. A certain blonde head materialized in her mind. Emma. The sweet idiot who was nothing short of truly brilliant when it came to her job and apparently melting the most stubborn of hearts. Hearts that didn’t even realize how frozen they were.

The corners of Regina’s mouth lifted as her mind wandered over the last few days. It had been so long since she had allowed herself to feel the excitement of Christmas and just this morning she had been sitting at her desk shaking a box like a child on Christmas morning wondering what could be insi-- Regina sat up in bed with a jolt.

The gift! She hadn’t even gotten a chance to open it before flying out of the office to race to her “dying” mother’s bedside! What will Emma think? What will Taylor have told her? Nothing, if he followed instructions. She rolled her eyes, yeah, like that would happen. Regina grabbed her phone and frowned when she realized it was still turned off. In her haste to get into the hospital and then back on the road, she had completely forgotten that she had silenced  _ Franklin _ (apparently) hours before. 

Watching the small white apple glow as it powered up, she hoped Emma would still be awake but wasn’t really sure what to say if she was. Her frown deepened further as she realized that by calling her, she may very well spoil the end of the game they had been playing for the last week and a half. Was Emma probably wondering what the hell was going on right now? Yes. Was the idea of torturing her just a bit with a turn of the tables beginning to lift the corners of Regina’s mouth. Also, yes.

Regina looked at the glowing red numbers next to the bed. It was almost midnight. If she left now, and traffic had lightened up due to the storm, she could take it slow and still get back to New York around five in the morning. Perfect! She could swing by the office, grab the gift, take it home, get some sleep, and still make it to the party that night and surprise Emma. Grabbing her keys and small emergency overnight bag she had with her, she headed for the front desk to check out while clicking Google maps open and studying the traffic delays ahead.

*****

Emma lay in bed glaring at the ceiling as if it held the answers to the hundred questions swimming through her mind and was simply refusing to speak. She went home. Home! But that wasn’t true, because Emma had checked. In true stalker fashion, Emma had left work an hour early after not being able to concentrate since getting back from lunch and headed over to Regina’s apartment to do some detective work. Being as she lived on one of the top floors, Emma instead had decided to charm some information out of the doorman. A quick flash of her pearly whites and a well-placed hand on his forearm with a giggle at whatever ridiculous little joke he had cracked about the weather soon had him spilling the info she was looking for. 

Yes, he had been on duty all morning. Yes, he knew who Ms. Mills was and had seen her leave that morning. No, he had not seen her come home and he would know because apparently someone named Leroy was supposed to have given him a lunch break but had experienced a sort of mall Santa emergency and never showed up. Yes, he’d love to have coffee with Emma sometime, oddly enough that information came up without Emma having to inquire to which she politely thanked him for his offer and told him that she’d have to check her calendar. 

So, Regina hadn’t gone home. She wasn’t sick then. So why on earth did she disappear and where to? Emma had contemplated calling or texting her about a thousand times since lunchtime but had continually smacked herself and forced herself to put the phone down. If Regina wanted her to know where she was, she would have reached out. Releasing a frustrated groan at the ceiling, she continued to toss and turn. Was Regina really not going to show up at the party? Emma didn’t get it. They seemed to get along so well these last few days. It had to be the last gift. Although, Emma couldn’t quite tell, when she had nonchalantly needed to place something on Regina’s desk around three o’clock, the box still sat on her desk and did not even look like it had been opened. Damn the nice gold glittery box. Emma wished she had wrapped it now in a much more obviously “it’s been opened” kind of way with more than just a burgundy bow on top to match the gift inside.

So she opened it and hated it and she left without another word to anyone but Taylor. Ugh, none of this made sense. It wasn’t like this was the first slightly suggestive gift or at least poem she had given the woman. Okay, it was more than slightly suggestive, but still. What about the kiss? Emma had barely brushed her lips and Regina had surged forward to much more firmly plant one on her at no prompting of her own. That little move certainly didn’t scream prude. Geez, if a little lingerie was going to scare the woman away, Emma would have to seriously adjust her deductions about Ms. Mills tastes in women.

Emma sighed deeply again. This was supposed to be the best night ever, looking forward to tomorrow night and her big reveal and now the whole thing was probably ruined and Regina would just throw everything in the trash and move on. She bit her lip in frustration. No. She wouldn’t let her do that. Not after the last ten days had been so amazing. Once she had hooked Regina’s interest, things between them had steadily gotten more intimate, their late night work sessions lending a hand. There had to be more to this. Why would Regina had said she went home if she...wait a minute! Home. Boston? Home, home?

Would Regina have gone home to Boston for the holiday early? Emma’s brow furrowed in confusion. She hadn’t made it sound like visiting her mother for the holidays was on the top of her todo list. From what little she knew of her, Cora Mills sounded like a dragon of a woman. Could there have been an emergency? Emma suddenly felt horrible making Regina’s hasty exit all about her. She reached for a phone on instinct and began to shoot off a text but stopped herself again. If Regina was in the midst of a family crisis she wasn’t going to want to be bothered. Plus...it was three in the morning. 

*****

It was three in the morning and Regina was crossing the border into New York state. The snow had thankfully let up about an hour ago and although the flakes were still falling, the pace was much less threatening now. She was making better time than she thought and would hopefully be in and out of the office before five. About half a dozen times she had rethought her plan to leave Emma in suspense until this evening but had finally resolved that she did kind of deserve this. She had been toying with Regina for over a week now and a little turn-about was fair play wasn’t it? But then again… Regina sighed. What if Emma was really worried about her? What if Taylor had told Emma she went home to Boston? Regina suddenly felt a little guilty. Okay, maybe one text...when she got to the office.

*****

Emma smacked her snooze button in confusion at the double buzz on her nightstand before she realized it was her phone and not her alarm clock. What the hell? It was five-thirty in the morning. Who the hell would be texting her now? Swiping at the screen her eyes tried to adjust to the bright light.

**Miss Swan, I was called out of town** **  
** **for the weekend. I do apologize for** **  
** **the early morning communication. However, please be sure to check on the clearances for the project today. I trust you’ll get** **_some_ ** **work done today despite looking forward to unwrapping your gift after this evening’s festivities.**

What the fuck? That was it? Emma’s brow furrowed. Something wasn’t adding up and it wasn’t just her sleep blurred brain that was the problem. She reread the message again, searching for any clues. On the surface, it looked like a normal text. Something she may have received from her boss maybe...twelve days ago. But now? At five in the morning on the day of the party? Nuh-uh. Emma wasn’t buying it. Covers pushed off, she sat up, throwing her legs over the side of the bed. A thoughtful look upon her face, thumbs hovered the keyboard. How should she respond? What to say? A minute later, those thumbs began moving. 

**What the hell are you doing sending me this bullshit text message at the buttcrack of dawn in the fu--**

Okay, that may be her first instinct but it wasn’t really what she wanted to say. Head shifting from left to right, Emma pressed the backspace key until the ire filled message disappeared. Staring at the skinny, blue cursor she soon began typing again. 

**Regina, I’ve been worried sic--**

No. Nope. She wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she was affected that much. Reminding herself to play this cool, Emma once again took advantage of the backspace key. 

**👍**

Before sensible Emma had the opportunity to talk cranky Emma out of it, the latter of the two tapped the arrow up key, which sent the message to wherever the hell Regina was this early morning. Disobeying sensible Emma’s request that she follow that non-verbal message with actual words she closed iMessage and slammed the innocent device down on the nightstand. She was about lay down when she decided to pick it up just long enough to activate mute in case Regina, aka the most aggravating object of her frustrated affections, decided to respond. 

Head returned to the pillow, Emma stared toward the ceiling with a frown etching her features. Was she being a brat? Perhaps, but what was Regina behaving like? Called out of town for the weekend. That told her nothing. That message had bullshit written all over it. Emma didn’t believe it for a solitary moment. So what was she truly up to? Where had she gone? What was keeping her from the final play in their game? Could she just not handle it? 

Guilt began to seep into her as she thought of her boss, of her boss’s late wife. Maybe she just couldn’t deal with it after all. Sure, she had shown obvious interest in her secret admirer, but maybe it occurred to her that she wasn’t really ready to move on. Maybe Emma’s last gift had made her realize how serious Emma was about her. Sure they had shared a little kiss, one that Regina certainly hadn’t seemed disinterested in, but maybe Emma had pushed too hard too fast. Maybe, Regina didn’t know how to let her down gently, so to spare Emma the embarrassment she fled. Then at five thirty on the morning of the party she figured she’s send that message so that her secret admirer (because Emma was about one hundred percent certain Regina knew it was her) wouldn’t be expecting her at the party that evening. This was Regina’s way of telling her it was over before it had begun. Whatever connection they had made didn’t matter. None of it mattered if Regina didn’t want it. Didn’t want her.

Rolling onto her left side, glistening green eyes located the phone with the bit of light spilling through her blinds. Every ounce of her ached to send a follow-up message. To tell Regina that it was okay. They could take it slower or just be friends or...Emma blinked back a tear threatening to escape her eye. She wasn’t sure she  _ could _ just be friends with Regina though. To just work with her like nothing had ever happened, like she had never sampled those soft lips, had never held her in her arms, had never felt her fingers combing through her hair with such tenderness. 

Emma sat up in bed again. No. This wasn’t fair. If Regina really did feel that way, and honestly Emma was just doing a lot of assuming right now, then she should tell her to her face. Running was bullshit  _ and  _ it made no sense. Regina Mills was no coward. If she wanted something, she pursued it relentlessly and if she didn’t want something, she’d tell you to your face. Something else was going on here.

Emma picked up her phone again and reread the message for the fourth time. There had to be a clue here somewhere. “Looking forward to unwrapping your gift after this evening’s festivities…” If this was Regina running, why would she say that? She would know damn well how disappointed Emma would be. She would know damn well that Emma probably wouldn’t even want to go to the party now if Regina wasn’t going to be there. And why would she care about a bunch of Christmas presents then? The only way Emma would be looking forward to the party would be if...she didn’t actually say  _ gifts  _ though, did she? Gift. Singular. Not plural. Referring to something specific…

Emma’s lips formed a suspicious frown. Was she playing her? Was this Regina trying to flip the script? The only gift Emma wanted to unwrap tonight was a certain brunette at a certain party wearing a certain other gift under what was sure to be a drop dead gorgeous dress. Okay, time to test that theory...wait. Emma glanced at the clock. It was six fifteen. Regina knew damn well Emma wasn’t the type to sleep a minute less than she was able so she had to play this cool. Let that little thumbs-up that basically screamed “okay, asshole” sit for a little while longer.

*********

_ Shit! _ Shit. This is why Regina didn’t play games. She was a straight shooter; what you see is what you get. How the hell was she supposed to answer this now without seeming obvious?

Regina had made it back to the office at five-fifteen. Old Sneezy the security guard had barely blinked at her when he buzzed her in, looking like he had been on duty since five-thirty the previous evening. She had raced up to her office to grab the gift but had stopped for a moment to admire the quiet in the large space. Regina loved moments like these. Like the deep breath before the doors open in an empty concert hall, the stillness filled the room. In just over a few hours people would begin to filter in with packages of homemade goodies and little gifts for each other, the bustle of the day would begin and the excitement of the evening would build. 

This year’s gift to her employees was a departure from her usual electronics and she hoped everyone would love it. Taking some inspiration from her mystery idiot, Regina had decided that while the latest and greatest techno gadget was always great, it was the little things in life that really mattered in the end. Therefore she was gifting every employee with an extra four days of paid vacation this year. Time to spend with the people who mattered most to them doing the things they loved to do. Time, she was quickly realizing, she herself needed to use for the same. 

Relieved to see the golden box still on top of her desk where she had left it, (leave it to Taylor to have shipped it to Boston or Mary Margaret to have sent a squadron of drones to bring it to her) she sat at her desk and read the attached card with a smile that slowly morphed into a smirk with an arched brow. 

Regina shook her head. Emma was getting quite bold, wasn’t she? She was almost surprised by her own lack of shock at the more than suggestive note. Upon opening the box, she did however, have the decency to gasp lightly. Emma had impeccable taste and Regina knew she could rock the hell out of the seductively tasteful ensemble inside. It was like the visit to her mother had flicked a switch. She had finally given herself permission to open herself to seeking happiness once again and as it turned out, she didn’t have to look very far at all. 

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she glanced at the time before unlocking it. Five-thirty. Perfect. Emma was sure to be sleeping and this would take her a few moments to put together.

**Emma…** No. That was too familiar. She pressed the backspace button. **Miss Swan…** Perfect.

*****   
  


Regina was still chuckling in her sleep over the thumbs-up she had received after those little response bubbles had popped up and down on her phone three or four times as Emma tried to decide how to answer her but now as she read the incoming message with bleary eyes, the smile faded from her lips. The text chime on her phone had gone off loudly by the bed, pulling Regina from her much needed nap. Yesterday’s agitation coupled with driving all night had finally caught up with her and since she wasn’t planning on showing up to the office until around seven that evening, sleep was the preferred activity of the morning. But now she was staring at a most concerning message.

**Ms. Mills,**

Regina would have smirked at the formal moniker if her eyes weren’t already scanning ahead to the rest of the message. 

**The plans have been approved by** **  
** **the council. We are good to go** **  
** **ahead on Monday with the contractor** **  
** **search. I have decided to travel home** **  
** **this evening at the end of the business** **  
** **day, but will be reachable by phone should you desire anything of me at all.**

**require***

Regina blinked at the message and reread it a few times. Emma was leaving after work? She wasn’t going to the party? Shit! Unless… She studied the message further and the apparent typo fix. Desire. Require. Had that really been an autocorrect fail or was Emma just too smart for her own good? Regina’s hand with her phone in it flopped down on the bed in frustration. Damn you, Emma. Let me have one! But what if she wasn’t playing her? What if she really hadn’t figured out Regina’s little clue? Ugh.

Pulling her screen back up to her eyes, Regina scrolled through her contacts and then typed out a message.

**Miss Blanchard, Mr. Gold and his** **  
** **Associate, Rogers, will be in attendance** **  
** **This evening along with the usual list of** **  
** **clients. I trust you and Miss Swan**

**Will be able to keep them busy and away** **  
** **From some of our more sensitive projects. I am relying on your discretion.**

Mary Margaret’s phone buzzed for a second time, this time in her hand as she stared blinking rapidly at the screen. Regina Mills had everyone in the office’s cell phone number sure, but she had never actually  _ used _ Mary Margaret’s before. What on earth could she possibly want from her?

Flicking the message tab to the left, she hit  _ open _ and entered her pass code, her left eyebrow soon traveling upwards in consternation. Why on earth was she asking her to babysit Gold and Rogers tonight with Emma? Did she really invite those two hacks to the party? For the life of her, Mary Margaret could not remember a Christmas party they had attended. 

**Will she be at the party?**

**And you?**

**Will you BOTH be there?**

Mary Margaret’s right brow joined her left near her hairline as Regina’s slightly panicked(?) needy(?) desperate(?) messages began to ping in and she suddenly realized this probably had nothing to do with Gold or Rogers at all. Swiveling her chair around, she regarded the blonde sitting off to her left. 

“Hey Em?”

“Mmm?” Emma was neck deep in work she was trying to finish before four so she would have time to pick up her outfit for the night, run home, and get ready.

“You’re coming tonight, right?”

“Huh?”

“The party. You’re gonna be here, right?”

“Of course I am.” Emma’s head snapped up a second later. “Why?”

“Hmmm?” Mary Margaret was busy tapping out something on her phone. “No reason, dear. Just making sure. Wouldn’t want to be stuck here all alone.”

Emma regarded her suspiciously. “Alone? Thought you were going with David? Didn’t you tell me he finally got up the nerve to ask you the other day?”

“What? Oh yes! Of course, I’ll be here with David. But you know what I mean.” She waved a hand dismissively and turned back to her computer while Emma’s frown deepened and she grumbled an “mmhmm” at the back of M2’s head.

**  
Don’t worry, Regina. She’ll be there.** 😉😍

Regina beamed at the message she got back from Mary Margaret and then rolled her eyes at the winky and heart eyes emojis attached. Clearly, Mary Margaret wasn’t the one to hit up for discrete information…

Satisfied with her confirmation that Emma was just playing games back and had figured her out after all, she smiled softly and allowed her eyes to drift closed again. She couldn’t wait for tonight and the fastest way to get there was to sleep now and be well rested for whatever the evening held. 

*****

She looked good. Damned good. At least that was what several partygoers aka co-workers had told her tonight. Stood alone in the women’s bathroom she checked her reflection with a critical eye, on the lookout for the tiniest wrinkle or piece of lint. After turning this way and that Emma nodded, a faint smile emerging upon glossy lips. Okay, perhaps she did look damned good. 

Considering how much she paid for this suit she should have looked good. Tailor-made (the only suit Emma ever went through the trouble of having fitted for her frame) it was her version of a tuxedo. She sent her reflection a smirk. Any excuse to wear a tie. 

The suit coal black, its jacket and slacks hugged her body in all the right places. She had desired a looser fitting suit but her tailor talked her into this one and honestly Emma was now delighted she had listened to the older gentleman. 

The red satin peak lapel along with the silk red tie her favorite parts of the tuxedo, she wore a crisp white pleated dress shirt underneath and a carefully folded and arranged crimson handkerchief in the breast pocket. Hair pulled into a high ponytail and wearing a subtle amount of makeup she felt ready. 

For what? Why only a certain petite powerhouse by the name of Regina Mills. Unless she had arrived during the four minutes Emma had been in the restroom she hadn’t graced them with her appearance yet. The party had been in full swing for the better part of an hour now, so where was she?

_ Well, you won’t find her in here.  _ A deep breath taken, Emma took a single step toward the door than froze. Try as she might to shove insecurities away she couldn’t help but wonder if Regina would truly come. No, she had just been screwing with her. Unless...she believed Emma’s text about not joining the festivities. 

No. Emma shook her head while absentmindedly playing with a mistletoe shaped cuff link. She had been screwing with Regina and was certain her boss recognized that. She would be here. A mischievous smile appeared as Emma unthawed, continuing to move toward the exit. Of course she would attend because Day Twelve’s gift had disappeared from her office overnight and Emma was a thousand percent positive Santa hadn’t swiped it. 

*****

A glass of eggnog (non-spiked) sipped, a smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she watched the adorable pair dance to what must have been their fifth or sixth song. If there were a pool on when they would be engaged Emma would confidently put down a great amount of money that David would slip an engagement ring on her friend’s finger by late March. 

A glance toward a clock produced a sigh. Eighteen minutes since she left the restroom. Granted, eighteen minutes wasn’t that long yet it felt like an eternity for someone waiting to see if the object of their affection would return her feelings. She kept reminding herself that Regina was interested yet this tiny obnoxious voice kept trying to drop doubts all over her brain. 

Green eyes lit up like Rudolph’s nose upon the notification sound reaching her ears. Those eyes scanned the room unable to locate her. Eggnog abandoned on someone’s desk, Emma pulled out the phone, eager to check her newest text message. 

**Good evening, Miss Swan. I must say you look absolutely  
miserable standing there. However, you also look good   
enough to eat. **

**Speaking of...if you need a break go find yourself a treat.  
Might I suggest something toasty. **

A Grinch width grin upon her lips, Emma reread the message several times. Was this a clue? Was she being sent on a Christmas treasure hunt? From miserable to giddy in two point five seconds. Her boss possessed some special kind of magic. Softly chuckling, she began to type a response. 

**Are we playing a game?**

Emma waited to see those three little dots upon her screen, but figured they weren’t going to be forthcoming when two minutes sailed by. Looking, she scanned the faces in the room, none of them Regina. But she had to be here; how else could she have commented on how Emma looked? Head bowed, she reread the clue once more deciding that the keywords were “break, “treat” and “toasty”. The grin returned and broadened as an invisible light bulb above a golden head flickered to life. 

The breakroom. It had to be. Regina had to be referring to the day Emma taught her how to raid the vending machine for a Pop Tart. Quelling the urge to sprint toward the back of the office, she managed to walk at a quickened yet subtle enough pace so as not to draw attention to herself. Once in the breakroom she felt along the wall for the light switch then walked in immediately turning toward the toaster on the counter. Discovering it empty and searching underneath for good measure, Emma then turned her attention toward the vending machine. 

Palms met for several gleeful claps when she spotted a small red envelope attached to the Pop Tart in front. Although she proceeded to pat the pockets sewn into her slacks and jacket Emma knew she didn’t have any change on her and this vending machine neither accepted credit cards or bills larger than a dollar bill. 

Damn, now she had to go find some mo—the grin abruptly returned, because on the counter next to the machine was a neatly folded dollar bill with two quarters on top. Of course she had thought her treasure hunt out. Giggling like a schoolgirl and gladdened no one was around to witness it, Emma picked up the money, inserted it and pressed the alphabet/number combination, grin persisting as she watched the coil in front of the packaged treat shift until the Pop Tart attained freedom. 

The envelope removed and the flap tore open, Emma pulled out a stiff, cream colored card with that perfect handwriting she had admired since she began working at Mills Designs. 

**_Roses are red  
_ ** **_Violets are blue  
_ ** **_Was it something you ate?  
_ ** **_Or did you have a stomach flu?_ **

Oh God. A laugh filled the otherwise empty, quiet room. Was the next clue seriously in the restroom? Either that or Regina expected her to leave the premises and go home to search.

About to leave the breakroom, Emma hurried back, snatching up the Pop Tart, which she tossed on her desk as she passed by again. Sure, there was plenty of food floating around but those strawberry flavored rectangles had just become special to her and so she planned on taking them home. 

Stopped on her way toward the restrooms, Emma had to spend a few minutes being social before politely as possible she excused herself. Entering the ladies room she did a quick scan to make sure she was alone. One stall occupied but thankfully not the one she had so uncomfortably used that day, she stepped inside. Door shut and locked she tried not to feel foolish as she scanned the walls.  _ She wouldn’t have...would she? . _ Emma gritted her teeth and felt under and around the backside of the bowl. Nothing.  _ Thankfully.  _ Rising from her knees, a thoughtful frown on her lips, she turned around again. There! Taped to the back of the door because of course Regina Mills wasn’t the type to be kneeling on the floor of a nearly public restroom, she found another red envelope, attached with a small piece of scotch tape. 

Lid used as a chair, with tongue tucked to the left side of her cheek, Emma read perfect handwriting in jet black ink. 

**_I hope Emma doesn’t get run over by a reindeer  
_ ** **_Walking up on Mills Designs this night  
_ ** **_You can say there’s no such thing as Santa  
_ ** **_But you could surely see him from that height_ **

Despite knowing the person who was using this facility for its original purpose remained within, she could hear her rifling through the basket of scents, raucous laughter exploded from Emma, her body shaking with its force. Rereading—actually singing the clue to the tune of  _ Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer  _ the laughter started all over again.

That laughter ceased the moment she figured out where she was supposed to go. Wait. Hold up. A slight frown surfaced. Did she...was Regina actually sending her to the roof to search for a tiny red envelope? At night? A snowy, frigid night? Was she insane? Was Emma herself insane because despite reservations she totally intended to go through with it?

Was this payback for the drone? Oh God, had she found Henry and paid him to help her? Emma sighed. Only one way to find out. Get off the pot and risk pneumonia to go up there and look. 

Flushing the toilet before unlatching the door, because she felt weird leaving a stall without doing so, she groaned upon noticing her coworker Ruby stood at a sink applying lipstick to an already incredibly crimson mouth. Light blue eyes dancing as they connected with Emma’s through the mirror she slowly lowered the tube while Emma approached, washing her hands for absolutely no reason unbeknownst to Ruby. 

“Emma?”

“Yes?” Another groan swallowed, she withdrew her hands from the stream, its automatic sensor causing it to stop flowing a second later. Quietly thanking her when handed a couple paper towels, Emma began drying her hands as the other woman turned in her direction, a hip pressed to the counter, her gaze both thoughtful and amused. 

“Do you always get so tickled when you tinkle?”

Paper towels crumpled into a ball Emma refused to allow the embarrassment she felt to show as she invaded Ruby’s personal space noticing a tongue swiping those supremely red lips. Must have been some of that smear free kind because they remained perfect. Last year, after weeks of insistence she agreed to go on a date with Ruby. Although they had fun Emma found her to be a little intense and...hungry. 

“Ruby, you should witness what I do when I come,” she replied in a breathy voice, immediately feeling the warmth slipping into her cheeks. Obviously Ruby noticed as her amusement doubled. 

“Look at you practicing your flirtation on me before you go in hot pursuit of your true love. So cute.”

Emma took a step back and scoffed. At least she tried to, but it caught in her throat. What was she going on about? What did she know about it? “What’re you talking about?”

Ruby shrugged, turned back to the mirror and dared to remove the lipstick from her tiny, red purse. Its lid pulled off amused, cerulean eyes made a point of gazing toward the red envelope peeking from Emma’s jacket. Gaze meeting Emma’s she winked. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

With a soft gasp Emma glanced between her and her pocket. “You know something about this?” For a terrifying moment Emma internally questioned if it could be Ruby but that didn’t make an ounce of sense unless she had stolen Regina’s phone and had been in the background observing them. 

Ruby shrugged at her own reflection. “That depends.”

“On?”

“Do you know where you’re going?”

“In life?”

Shiny red lips parted with laughter. “Not getting philosophical with you, Emma. Literally,” Ruby thoughtfully looked her way, “do you know where you’re supposed to go in relation to the building?”

Why put it that way? Not  _ inside _ the building but in  _ relation _ to. “Are you helping her?”

“You ask too many questions.” Ruby chuckled. “But I suppose you could call me a helpful little elf.”

An eyebrow raised. Interesting. Regina had a cohort. Emma could think of another who used to be  _ her _ cohort. Mary Margaret seemed way too weird earlier when asking if she intended to come to the party. “To the roof,” Emma said with much confidence, watching a broad smile flourish. 

Long fingers waved toward the door. “Off you go then.” 

Matching that smile, Emma wished her a Merry Christmas and headed for the door, tossing the balled up dampened paper in the wastebasket on the way. Her name called she stopped and turned around. “Yes, Elf? By the way, you’re the tallest one I’ve ever seen.”

Ruby laughed. “I drink a lot of milk.” She made a show of scanning the other woman from head to toe and back again. “Just wanted to say a tux looks nice on you. Damn nice.” Licked again, that mouth remained smear free. “You’re a snack, Emma.” A wolfish grin rose to the surface. 

A thank you murmured, Emma pushed through the door as her face further warmed. See? Hungry. 

*****

Stood at the entrance to the roof, with her hand upon the door handle Emma took several deep breaths preparing not only for her mission but the immense chill that was about to smack her across the face. 

What if Regina was standing on the other side of this door, right now? Probably looking like a goddess in some jet black number mirroring the depth in her dark eyes, hugging every perfect curve, accentuating every delicious...Emma bit her lip and sighed. Well, if she were standing out there in the cold waiting for her, she’d most assuredly not appreciate being made to wait. Emma straightened her tie, smoothed out her jacket and pushed the door open with a sparkling smile.

Her eyes sweeping the visible space, the smile dropped from her lips when there was no gorgeous brunette in sight. Maybe behind one of the large box vents? Emma pulled her thin jacket around her tightly and stepped out onto the five inch or so layer of snow coating the rooftop with a grimace. Damn the wind was kicking up here. Thank goodness she opted for a heeled leather boot with her tux or she’d be meeting the woman of her dreams in a second with literal cold feet.

*********   
  


“I need you to take this up to the roof.”

Taylor began to laugh after a startled “what” pushed forth from his lips as he turned toward Regina. “I’m sorry, Ms. Mills. I thought you just asked me to take something up to the roof!” His laughter faded slowly as it was clearly not being returned.

“I don’t believe I  _ asked  _ you to do it.” Regina felt a tiny pang of guilt as he audibly swallowed but pushed it away when she remembered what a nice bonus check he was getting tonight. Normally a temp would never receive something like that, or for that matter even have been invited to the office party, but ugly tie had grown on her in the last few days. He was...irritating but not completely inept...she supposed. Either way, she had to give it to the kid. He had outlasted almost every other temp that had ever walked through the door with an astounding nine days straight of showing up. She tried to soften her approach.

“Ugl-- _Taylor_. You’ve proven yourself to be very helpful these last few days and I was wondering if I could impose on you one last time this evening.”

Taylor seemed to cautiously relax, or at least his shoulders came down from his ears a good three inches. “Ye...yes, of course, Ms. Mills. I really have enjoyed my time work--”

Regina interrupted him with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Yes, I’m sure you have. Now be a dear and run this little note up to Miss Swan for me. For some reason she seems to think Santa is arriving to our little soiree by helicopter tonight.

Taylor gave Regina one of the most perplexed looks ever to grace the face of a human being but did finally accept the envelope being thrust toward his chest. He was quite sure he would never again work in a place as interesting as Mills Designs again in his life, and was beginning to think he was actually absolutely fine with that idea. Shaking his head, he headed for the hallway to grab his coat.

*********

Emma stood at the edge of the roof completely confused and edging towards completely frustrated. Regina was nowhere to be found and worse than that, despite having looked just about everywhere she could begin to think of, no additional little red envelopes were to be found either. Her feet were freezing after all, her nose and cheeks were stinging with the wind and there was no way she was staying up here one more minute. If Regina thought torturing her was funny she had another thing coming. 

Stalking toward the door, she reached for the handle when it suddenly jumped out of its frame towards her. Emma reeled and stumbled backward with someone who smelled much too much like a middle school locker room’s worth of Axe body spray to be Regina crashing into her arms.

The fact that they both managed to stay upright was a Christmas miracle in itself. Taylor untangled himself from her unintentional embrace with a face flushed with embarrassment that rivalled Emma’s own rosy cheeks. 

“Miss Swan! Oh thank goodness!” 

What the hell was he doing up here? And why was he so relieved to see her?

“I really thought she was just screwing with me, you know?” 

Who? What the hell was he  _ doing _ up here?

“I mean when she said you were on the roof waiting for a helicopter, I was totally like, whaaaaaat?” 

Good Lord, talking to this boy was exhausting but at least it was actually managing to make her forget the cold for a second. But again, what the  _ hell _ was he talking about.

“Taylor!” Emma interrupted his prattling about Santa Claus and bomb threats. “What the hell are you doing up here?”

“Oh! Right. Sorry. Ms. Mills asked me to bring this up here to you.” He produced a small red envelope from his back pocket. 

_ Of course she did _ . Emma rolled her eyes and took the card. “Thanks. Um...why don’t we get back to the party, then? It’s freezing up here.”

The pair reentered the building through the access doorway and began to descend the two floors back to the office. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.” Emma had a feeling she wasn’t going to have an answer to this question.

“What the heck  _ were  _ you doing on the roof?”

All Emma could do was laugh and shake her head. “You don’t want to know.” Thankfully they had reached the entrance to their floor at this point and the warm blast of air that greeted them through the door Taylor held open, proved enough of a distraction for Emma to escape his blank stare and nod. A mumbled “this place is so weird.” was the last thing she heard him say as she snaked her way through the cubicles back toward the far wall.

By the time she got there she hoped the color in her cheeks was returning to some semblance of normal. Thank goodness Mary Margaret was too busy gazing into the eyes of her date to notice her or she definitely would have had some explaining to do about her frosty complexion. Trying to look as nonchalant as possible, she ignored the smirking grin on Ruby’s face from across the room and slid the card from its envelope.  _ Please let this be the last one _ . She didn’t know how much longer she could stand not seeing Regina at this point in the evening or how many more buildings she could stand to climb.  _ All I know is, I’m  _ not  _ going to the basement next… _

**_You’ve sent me on quite the treasure hunt,_ ** **_  
_ ** **_to find things high and low._ ** **_  
_ ** **_But with every token found,_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Something else has begun to grow._ **

**_It seems that I had forgotten how_ ** **_  
_ ** **_to see the brighter side of this season.  
_ ** **_The sparkle of gold on top of a tree,_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Just wasn’t enough of a reason._ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Then Emma Swan snuck into my_ ** **_office_ ** **_,_ ** **_  
_ ** **_(Something not exactly smart)_ ** **_  
_ ** **_But she worked her little magic flair  
_ ** **_And somehow landed in my heart._ **

Emma’s smile could not conceal the warmth and tingle that stanza caused to flood through her body. She had landed in Regina’s heart? Eyes scanning further down the paper, her lips widened impossibly further at the last stanza of the clue. **_  
  
_********_So come and find me, if you dare_** ** _  
_** ** _Though your gift is under wraps._** ** _  
_** ** _I believe you wanted it on the floor later,_** ** _  
_** **** _Let’s see what we can do about that._

The last line wasn’t a perfect rhyme and to be honest, Emma couldn’t have cared less and she hastily slid the card back into its envelope and into her back pocket. Pushing off from the wall with a grin, she smoothed her hair, took a deep breath, and strode confidently towards the heavy wooden door leading into Regina’s darkened office.

Placing her hand on the doorknob, she hesitated for just a second. This was the moment she had been waiting for. Of course, Regina had flipped the script a bit by taking over the game of the reveal but honestly Emma was fine with that. Regina Mills was a proud and indiscreet control freak and there would be no changing that anytime soon. The mere fact that she had gone along with the whole game in the first place had both surprised and delighted Emma. It meant that on some level, Regina could give up a little control once in a while and enjoy the moment. 

So what if Regina had taken over the reveal? This was a business after all. A hostile takeover was never off the table. Emma smirked at her own pun. She’d hardly call this hostile but she knew on some level the roof had been pure payback and she kind of loved it...now that she was warm again. Of course, she couldn’t let her win that easily. This was Emma’s game and one final move seemed to be in order. 

Turning away, she did as quick scan of her surroundings, grabbed a random file folder off a coworker’s desk, and tucked it under her arm. With no further hesitation and with an air of brusque professionalism on her face she pushed the door open and stepped into the dimly lit space.

Three things hit her senses when she entered the room. The way the heavy wooden door, closed behind her, seemed to block out the noise of the party, reducing the din to a dull murmur. She had never realized that Regina had made her office almost sound proof but she supposed it did make perfect sense if you knew her. Then the way the unexpected scent of cinnamon and clove tickled her nose and wrapped her in an immediate warmth of the holiday. And finally how the flickering light in the fireplace at the back of the office made the large room seem almost cozy. 

It took Emma a moment to put together that the light from the fireplace was coming from about three dozen perfectly arranged battery operated candles as her eyes adjusted to the darkness and another moment to spot the shape of Regina standing just off to the side of the mantel watching her, the darkness hiding her expression.

Remembering her goal here, Emma cleared her throat, straightened her back, and strode over to Regina’s desk quickly. Pulling the file from under her arm she flicked the small light on Regina’s desk on and opened the folder. 

“Ms. Mills, I thought you’d like to see the clearances for the West Parkway building.” Emma barely glanced in her direction, rifling through the papers, pretending to read something in the folder.

“Emma, I…” Regina’s confusion was obvious and Emma looked down intently attempting to hide a small grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Why the hell is it so dark in here anyway? Jeez, you’d think there was a power outage or something.” 

Regina approached the desk slowly as if she were trying to assess a stranger who had arrived unexpectedly. “Emma?”

“Hmm?” Emma pretended to be engrossed in her reading but couldn’t have told you one word written on the page she so studiously examined.

“Did...did you see Taylor just a moment ago?”

“Taylor? Uh, yeah sure. I mean, I think I saw him around? Why do you ask?” Emma could barely hide the smirk playing at the corner of her mouth and now from this closer distance to Regina, could not at all hide her still cold flushed cheeks even in the dim light.

Regina’s lips began to curl into a smirk of her own. Emma wanted to play it cool? Very well then. Regina could certainly turn up the heat for her. Regina came around the front of the desk, placing her palms flat on the surface and bent slightly at the waist into the light of the desk lamp. The position allowed the low scooping neckline of her perfectly fitted black dress to fall away from her chest just enough to reveal the laced edge of a certain deep burgundy bra underneath and Regina could swear she could actually hear Emma swallow a whimper as her eyes slid up from the papers in her hand to the more pleasing vision before her. 

Emma cleared her throat again and had to almost physically rip her gaze from the perfection in front of her. She turned around as nonchalantly as possible, leaning against the desk with her back to Regina who stood up with a roll of her eyes and shake of her head. “You really should take a look at these setbacks. I think the firewalls could be an issue with the ninth floor bump out if we don’t get the electrical in first.” Emma was talking pure nonsense in the most serious voice she could muster.

Regina rounded the desk slowly with a look of growing fondness on her face as Emma continued to rattle on. How could she have ever thought anyone else could be her mystery idiot? Emma. Trailing her fingers along the desk edge, Emma’s breath hitched for just a moment when those two digits came to rest on her hip but she managed to continue her verbal dissection of the papers in her hand.

“It looks like the--  _ these  _ conduit lines are going to be over the standard five hundred feet. Hm. We’re going to need to budget for the metal runs instead of the plastic.”

Regina slowly stepped in front of her, close enough for Emma to notice the light scent of her perfume mixing with the sweet incense already permeating the room. The fingers of her right hand traced the line of Emma’s waistband and came to rest on the tip of her tie while Emma made desperate attempts to maintain her stoic facade.

Regina studied her face, the way the green in her eyes reflected in the dim light, little flecks of gold she had never noticed before mesmerizing her. Emma. She repeated her name in her mind again and felt a warmth spread through her chest. This woman. The beautiful idiot that had managed to melt the wall of ice Regina had so steadily built around her heart over the last half-decade, now stood just inches in front of her babbling on about some building Regina was pretty sure wasn’t even on her project list and it was like looking through an open door at a second chance for happiness. 

“Yes, well um...as you know, West Parkway is outside of the historical district and…” Regina tugged lightly on her tie and ran her finger slowly up the length of silk. “Ahem, and so the face of the structure won’t be an issue with…” Short fingernails lightly tickled Emma’s neck as Regina straightened the knot at her throat. Emma was now forced to hold the papers off to her side awkwardly to read even though she wasn’t reading. “As I was saying, the size of the windows in the penthouse will require reinforcement, the, of the…” Regina reached out and took the folder out of Emma’s hand. “Framing with steel and…” She reached behind Emma and dropped the folder on the desk with a smack.

Emma continued without hesitation and Regina smirked again realizing there was only going to be one way to shut her up.

Emma had dropped her hands to her sides now, shoving them deep into her pockets unsure of what to do with them as she tried desperately to hang onto her little game and not to grab Regina by the waist and kiss the little growing smile off her lips. Returning her hands to Emma’s waist, Regina tugged her forward an inch and leaned in close to whisper in Emma’s ear. 

“Shut up, Miss Swan.”

Emma, of course, continued without a beat despite the six degrees her temperature just rose at the heat of Regina’s chest pressed to her. “You know what? You’re probably right. I mean the windows definitely need reinforcement but maybe we could get away with…” Regina’s hands slid slowly up Emmas’ arms and came to rest on her shoulders for just a beat before moving up further to cup her face, thumbs brushing fondly over her cheeks.

“Shut up, Emma.” Regina spoke the sentence even more hushed as her gaze moved up from Emma’s mouth to lock eyes with her. Emma’s voice had weakened to just above a whisper now.

“Carbon frame...windows...and you…” Emma was lost in the closeness of Regina and finally ran out of words as Regina closed the final inches between them and pressed their lips together in the softest kiss she had ever experienced in her life, her eyes fluttering closed with a breathy moan.

Emma wrapped her hands around Regina’s waist, pulling her closer. Warm fingers threading into her hair, Emma silently thanked the good Lord that the desk was supporting her weight; her knees weakening with desire when Regina’s tongue tentatively tasted her bottom lip. 

Both women lost track of the time as gentle hands caressed and warm mouths melded together until they finally broke, breathless, foreheads pressed together, each unwilling to release the other.

“Emma, I…” Regina struggled to find the right words. “You don’t know how much you…I just…”

Emma smiled softly at her and placed another chaste kiss on her lips. “Hush. You don’t have to explain. Not now.”

“You make me want...I didn’t even think I could…” Regina’s voice broke for a second and she tried to compose herself, blinking back sudden wetness in her eyes. The right words just weren’t coming to her; the right way to explain how Emma had managed to take her hand over the last twelve days and lead her into what felt like...a second chance but more than that even. Emma Swan was a whole new beginning.

Emma’s thumb brushed a tear from Regina’s cheek and she smiled, placing a kiss on the small track of moisture. She had a thousand things she wanted to say all at once and at the same time wanted so much for Regina to just enjoy this night with lightness in her heart. “I think we should get back to the party, Ms. Mills. People are going to start talking.”

Regina’s smile faltered for just a second. Emma wanted to go back out there? 

Emma’s fingers wandered downward, tracing the neck line of Regina’s dress. “That is to say, why don’t we make our final rounds and then find the exit to this little shindig. I plan on making the naughty list tonight and would prefer not to unwrap my present in your office.”

Regina smirked and then laughed when Emma’s eyebrows wiggled at her. Emma took her hand and led Regina toward the door, holding it open for her. “I’ll give you exactly fifteen minutes to meet me in the elevator, Miss Swan.” 

Emma closed the door behind them and then stepped forward, catching Regina by the waist before she disappeared into the crowd to whisper in her ear. “I do believe, I’ll only need twelve.” 


End file.
